


Gate Number 40

by kagme



Series: Gate Number 40 [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, twoset violin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Heartache, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Music, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, basically a romcom with some feels, they will get there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 49,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28936326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagme/pseuds/kagme
Summary: Eddy’s head snapped up, eyes wide. Glasses. Jordon seldom wore his glasses. Which might be because his desk partner wasn’t Jordon. Just another Asian dude giving him a quizzical glance.Why wasn’t he Jordon? The other intern was supposed to be Jordon.“Who are you?”“Brett,” Not-Jordon replied with raised eyebrows.“Why?” Eddy blurted back, too confused to process anything.Brett’s lips twitched up, and exactly then, Doris Zimmerman raised her hands.“From the Allegro.”
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Toni Wei
Series: Gate Number 40 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197242
Comments: 160
Kudos: 147





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my new fic, and first 2021 piece of writing! :D Who's ready for another long ride with me? Be ready for some good, long pining and slow burn. They're soulmates but their path isn't an easy one.
> 
> Number of chapters is not set in stone, it might vary as I write. I've got a bunch of buffer chapters, so I should be able to post regularly, probably every week, maybe twice a week if I've got the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here is the prologue of this new fic, at the time I have a few chapters written in advance to be sure I can keep posting even if I get overwhelmed by work.
> 
> Thank you so much to Ria who had accepted once again to go on this journey with me and beta read this :D
> 
> I haven't posted anything in a while, but I'm really excited to share this with you now! I've been working on this since New Year and only is it ready to be published.

Excitement was vibrating through him, buzzing at the tips of his fingers, heart hastening as a plane took off by the window of the airport, feet hesitating at the entrance of gate number forty.

The violin on his back felt like wings of music carrying him off to some new adventure, leaving the sweltering heat of March in Australia behind, his stomach churned, not knowing whether to process anxiety or anticipation.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” the soft voice came from his right.

And it was tears in her eyes wrenching his heart from his chest.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, Toni, don’t. I’ll never be able to leave otherwise,” he swiped his hands over her cheeks, gathering the wetness at the corner of her eyes, feeling his own throat clog up.

“Would it be so bad?” she mumbled before shaking her head and taking a breath. “I’m sorry, forget it. I know it’s an amazing opportunity for you, I don’t want to hold you back. Not every student gets admitted into the London Symphonic Orchestra, I’m proud of you, Eddy.”

“C’mon, don’t talk as if it was the last time we see each other. It’s only six months, and you’ll be busy with your own internship in Brisbane, and I’ll be too, and we’ll barely feel the time passing, and before we know it we’ll be together again,” he rambled, hands going from her face to the back of her head, taking her against his chest.

Her hair was heavy and soft against his fingers, in the corner of her bag, he could see the Naruto keychains dangling, her arms sneaked around him and he knew he would miss her fiercely. Miss the evenings they spent eating takeaway while watching animes, miss the impromptus music sessions where they tried to adapt every song they liked on flute and violin, the mitigated results that left them gasping on laughter, the way she felt against him, the way she looked in that blue dress- 

“Alright,” he choked, “if I don’t go now I’ll never manage to leave you.”

His grip didn’t falter though, still holding on even as Toni struggled to get out of the embrace with a giggle.

“I think you need to let go of me if you want to catch your plane, Eddy, you still have security to go through.”

“Nooo,” he whined, glad to see the tears had stopped as she was hitting his arm and laughing at his antics. “I’m sure you can fit in my suitcase, I’ll take you with me.”

“And make _me_ miss my whole internship?”

“Fair point,” he sighed, finally releasing her. “I’ll call you once I’m done with security, and then once I’m in London, safe in my sister’s apartment.”

“I’m sure you’ll forget, so I’ll probably be the one ending up calling you.”

“Will you ever stop making good points?”

“No,” she kissed his lips and stepped back. “Okay, have you got everything? Bags registered? Violin? Passport? Boarding pass? Phone? Charger?”

“You remind me of my mom and I’m not sure how I feel about it,” he scrunched his nose, chuckling when she rolled her eyes.

“Go then, have a safe flight, say hi to your sister and Jordon from me once you’re there.”

“I will, thanks again for driving me to the airport.”

She just smiled, took another step back, steeling herself for the six months they would spend apart.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, see you in September.”

“See you in September.”

He gave her one last look, closed his eyes, and turned his back. Passed gate number forty.

*

He stumbled in his sister’s arms, marveling at how small she seemed now.

“Every time I see you, I forget you grew up,” Belle laughed, siblings’ connection keeping them on the same mind track. “You’re still a runt in my mind.”

“Stop bullying me, I traveled for twenty-five fucking hours _and_ I’ve got ten hours of jet lag, I’m about to drop dead,” he groaned. “Plus now that you’ve got a British accent, you sound posh and it’s worse.”

She snorted but took pity on him and helped him with his luggage, loading them in the hood of the car she had rented to come pick him up.

“Do remember to send a text to Mom and tell her I picked you up, she has been harassing me to make sure I didn’t forget you. Apparently being twenty-one doesn’t stop you from being her baby boy.”

“Believe me, I know,” he sighed and dragged himself to the passenger side, breathing in the smell of new leather and cleaning products.

“I think you can take off the three scarves now, Eddy, the car is heated,” she turned the keys in the ignition and started to drive.

“England is way too fucking cold, is it like this all the time? Or just in March?”

“You never stop complaining do you? I’m sure you kept whining about Brisbane being too hot right before coming here.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

She burst out laughing and they left the airport behind them in between banter and catching up on each other’s lives.

Tiny villages and old stones passed by the windows, green trees and wet grass, churches’ bell towers as his sister made him listen to her latest piano creation. Everything felt charged with history, melancholy hanging between grey clouds and soft music, Europe worming its way in Eddy’s heart already, leaving him wanting to grab his violin and add the frozen chords of Sibelius to the ambiance.

Scarves, hats, and coats went discarded, cozy in the warmth of the car, as the misty outside world let its droplets hang on the hood, reflecting the low lights of the evening worming their way through cumulus.

Tiredness melted from him as London came into view, excitement bubbling again as images of his life here shot in his brain, mind overworking, sorting through possibilities and scenarios; it felt scary and beautiful.

Six months interning in the London Symphonic Orchestra, one of the very few students admitted with his mate Jordon from uni; pride bubbled and he couldn’t contain the smug smile from his lips. Being one of the very best students in Griffith definitely paid off, and having Belle as an older sister too. And he would get to live with his sister for that time, she was a bully but also the absolute best, anticipation climbed and climbed, leaving him jittery, hands fiddling with the strap of his violin case.

Belle glanced at him and smirked.

“Welcome to London, I’m sure you’ll have a blast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so in case this gets any traffic, I thought I would do this thing in every one of my ends notes, where instead of the usual "hey, thanks for reading", I would talk a bit about some of my favorite and (in my opinion) critically underrated fics from the TwoSet fandom :D They are in no particular order, and I may forget some, but I genuinely think everyone here on ao3 is a fantastic writer!
> 
> Alright, so I'll start with one of my absolute favorite authors here: [Apsacta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apsacta/pseuds/Apsacta). 
> 
> Apsacta’s works feel like Chopin to me, in minor tones and 13 against four polyrhythms; strangely settled despite the imbalance. A light waltz that morphs into a nocturn midway before exploding a flurry of emotions. I'm forever in love with the way they use words and very softly rip the heart out of their reader's ribcage. They have so many good works it's almost impossible to choose one of them, but there is one that stayed with me and inspired me to write one of my oneshots, so I enjoin you to go read [Be still, my heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24577135), a beautiful metaphor of an evolving relationship that deserves all the kudos in the world.


	2. Chapter 1: Not-Jordon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who are you?”
> 
> “Brett,” Not-Jordon replied with raised eyebrows.
> 
> “Why?” Eddy blurted back, too confused to process anything.
> 
> Brett’s lips twitched up, and exactly then, Doris Zimmerman raised her hands.
> 
> “From the Allegro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I kept writing non-stop this weekend, I had a good burst of inspiration, if this keeps going, I guess I can have a bi-weekly update of Wednesday and Saturday. I realize how boring the prologue was, so thank you if you are still reading :D Brett's appearing here, and warmth is already slowly seeping in Eddy's life. 
> 
> Also, I've done so much research on the LSO for this, but all I could find was they sometimes rehearsed at St Luke's, and they were based in the Barbican Center, I don't know if this where they actually rehearsed, no amount of Google helped me, so if anyone knows, please tell me, I would gladly stand corrected. I've also never been to London, so if anyone's from there or know nice places, give me some hints are to where I could take Brett and Eddy :D
> 
> Thank you so much Ria for beta-reading this :D
> 
> Take some crappy art too.

#  Chapter 1: Not-Jordon

Eddy was usually late - to everything. He was the kind of man who would probably be late on the day of his wedding. 

Anxiety about his first day with the London Symphonic Orchestra had woken him up before his alarm clock, which never happened. He had read the email detailing how the internship was supposed to go about fourteen times already, dread pooling at the idea of screwing things up so early, mixing with the anticipation of playing with such a prestigious orchestra and he had been unable to stomach anything but a coffee. His call with Toni had helped to some extent, rambling to her as she was getting ready for bed on her side of the world, laughing and reassuring and being everything he loved her for. Belle had pretended to gag at their terms of endearment so many times already he had ended up flipping her and got a tap at the back of the head for his insolence.

Making good use of still having one more day with the rental car, his sister had dropped him off in front of the Barbican Centre at 8:30 sharp - just to be sure, which was great because he now had half an hour to peacefully die of nervousness, while Jordon wasn’t answering any of his texts.

He blamed the jet lag still weighing down for not realizing at once when he stepped in the room and all the musicians were already in the middle of practice.

All noise stopped as he opened the door, stares boring into him and he felt like throwing up.  _ What the fuck? _

“Oh, hi. Eddy, is it not?” the conductor drawled in a heavy accent, throwing back her blond hair behind her shoulder. “It’s so good to have you here love, I hope you’ll have a nice time with the LSO. You’re late though, rehearsal starts at eight.”

Doris Zimmerman seemed like the kind of woman who refused to let age have a hold on her, her LinkedIn said she was seventy already, but her inexpressive eyebrows and pursed lips screamed of Botox, face lifted so no wrinkle could be seen. Everybody could agree on the fact that she was a brilliant conductor though, the best in London.

“But- the email said nine?” Eddy fumbled with his phone, almost dropping his violin case, gloves and scarves and his heavy coat in the way, overall making a fool of himself in front of the entire orchestra. 

“No, it’s eight.”

“I’m sure it’s-”

“It doesn’t matter what the email says, I am the musical director, I tell you it’s eight, so it’s eight, understood, love?” her voice never rose, staying at that slow drawl that somehow managed to be even more insulting. “You’re lucky it’s your first day. Now go sit, your stand partner is the other intern,” she waved her hand dismissively toward the back of the second violins where Jordon probably was.

Why didn’t he warn him rehearsal started earlier, the fucker? 

Shame burned at the back of his neck, stomach rolling in embarrassment and a dot of anger as he made his way toward the empty seat, gaze focused on the ground refusing to see the way every one of those accomplished musicians must be staring at him.

For fuck’s sake, the one time he managed to get somewhere half an hour before the appointed time, he was still somehow late.

He crashed beside his mate, eyes still on the floor, ears hot, hands shaky as they unclasped open his violin case, trying to get rid of his winter gear in the fastest possible way.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was eight?” he hissed under his breath in Jordon’s direction. 

“Huh, sorry? Was I supposed to?” a low voice that seemed out of place for his friend answered.

Eddy’s head snapped up, eyes wide. Glasses. Jordon seldom wore his glasses. Which might be because his desk partner wasn’t Jordon. Just another Asian dude giving him a quizzical glance.

Why _wasn’t_ he Jordon? The other intern was supposed to be Jordon.

“Who are you?”

“Brett,” Not-Jordon replied with raised eyebrows.

“Why?” Eddy blurted back, too confused to process anything.

Brett’s lips twitched up, and exactly then, Doris Zimmerman raised her hands.

“From the Allegro.”

He just had the time to blink as the whole orchestra started what looked like Tchaikovsky’s sixth symphony.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, hitting himself in the nose with his bow as he fake played while desperately squinting at his deskie’s open sheet, trying to understand where they were at.

His phone fell from his pocket in a clatter and he swore again, hiding behind the music stand in the hopes of just disappearing then and there. 

On his left, Not-Jordon was choking on laughter, tears in his eyes as he bit his lip.

“Mate,” the guy tried to hide a chuckle behind a cough, “left page, mesure 9, next note is a D, upbow.”

“Thank fuck.”

*

By lunch break, Eddy had almost forgiven Brett for not being Jordon.

It was a wonder the guy kept being so friendly with the way their first interaction went, but Eddy’s weirdness seemed to leave Brett unphased, at most he laughed, but kept helping and giving useful advice.

“Don’t bother and argue with Zimmerman, dude,” had been the first one. “She always purposefully goes against everything that the management says, she’s in a weird war with Richard Stenhouse, the other director, from what gossip I gathered.”

“Is she allowed to do that?”

“She’s Doris Zimmerman, she does whatever the heck she wants,” Brett shrugged, putting his violin back into its case. “It’s a bit of a nightmare to get the right information here. If in doubt go ask Erica, the leader,” he pointed to the young concertmaster with his chin before getting up and shouldering his coat, to go eat probably.

Awkwardness trembled at the tip of his fingers, knotting his insides in question marks.

What was he supposed to do? Was there a place for Orchestra members to eat together? Should he go out and buy something? Go back to his sister’s place? And why the fuck was Jordon still not answering his messages?

He fiddled with his sleeve for a second, deciding he would rather skip a meal and stay here rather than risk making a fool of himself or being late again.

A sigh came from his left. “Did you bring any lunch?”

Brett was still standing in front of him, case on his back, and wrapping a thick scarf around his neck.

“Huh, no. Was I supposed to?” 

Brett laughed again, for a reason Eddy couldn’t pinpoint, but his grin after was genuine.

“No, it’s okay. There’s this place not far from here that makes good sandwiches, let me offer you lunch since it’s your first day here.”

“Oh, no it’s okay, I’m fine.”

“C’mon,” he gave him a charming smile. “You’re the only one of the same age as me here and we’re deskies, we’re gonna spend a lot of time together, might as well get to know each other.”

*

The sandwiches  _ were  _ delicious, the small restaurant was warm and Eddy had already cracked two viola jokes that had made the other intern burst out laughing. He was starting to relax around Brett - it would be hard not to, with how engaging and sunny the guy was in the midst of the cold weather.

Pens littered the place and an entire wall was covered with drawings left by the clients on the back of their orders, they made fun of some, admired others, Eddy jumped excitedly whenever he recognized fanart of his most loved mangas and he was so glad Brett had convinced him to come. 

It was only as they walked back to rehearsal, nose buried in scarves and hands safe in the warmth of their pocket, stomach full and heart happy, that he realized he had blabbered about his favorite animes, his drawing skills, and his perfect pitch, guided by Brett’s pointed questions, but he still knew nothing about his deskie, apart from his name and the fact that his internship with the LSO was a year-long one. Damn. The guy was good at conversation.

“So, who’s your favorite composer?” Brett asked and- as much as Eddy wanted to turn back the conversation toward his desk partner to learn more about him, there was no way he could resist that question.

“Well, it might be a bit cliche, but I really like Debussy, I always feel like he paints feelings with his music, but in soft hues with unusual chords, you have to be willing to be carried by the polyrhythms, I don’t really know how to explain it, but when I listened to him for the first time, my mind was completely blown, this was nothing like what I was used too, you know. It’s confusing and unexpected and you can’t hear the rhythm properly, you can’t pinpoint the key, it’s just taking you on a journey and you have on choice but to follow. It’s such a shame he barely composed for violin, I wish I was better at the piano so I could play more of him. Also, I’ve been more and more into Sibelius lately - his symphonies and his violin concerto? Man, I’ve listened to it so many times I hear it in my sleep. Whenever Vengerov’s version starts playing, it’s as if ice is frosting the tip of my fingers, the concerto feels completely unique, there’s nothing quite like it. Of course, it can be said about most pieces, but this one feels special to me, Sibelius’s style was just so original, I think it has to do with the fact he wanted to really bring back music to its essentials, smaller orchestra, smaller symphonies, not larger than life like Mahler, but rather finding beauty in simplicity, kind of like Japanese prints, you know, a few strokes to reveal a landscape. Oh! About Japanese, there’s this composer, a personal favorite of mine that I’ve discovered recently-”

There was a soft chuckle and Eddy stopped, instantly blushed to the tip of his ears when he realized he had let himself ramble without check, they were in front of the Barbican Centre by now, and Brett was holding open the door for him, which he had barely noticed, too taken in his own speech.

“Fuck, sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

“No, it’s cool, keep talking,” Brett smiled from behind his scarf, nose red from the cold, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “You’re really passionate.” 

There was a note in his tone that carried a different ring, a deeper layer in his voice, something that felt like authenticity and a glimpse at who Brett was under the nice guy persona he had worn all day - he sounded impressed.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, hey. I’m a twenty-five hours flight from home, I better be passionate,” he laughed, warm from the central heating engulfing him and the way his desk partner’s words echoed like a compliment in his ribcage - like the validation he craved since- he wouldn’t go there now. “What about you? Who’s your favorite composer?”

“I don’t know if I really have one, too many good pieces, too many great composers, but I can blast the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto for hours.”

“Oh, yeah. The sheer passion and anguish are brilliant.”

“I know, right?” Brett answered excitedly, suddenly even more animated, grin brighter and crinkles deeper. “It’s so epic! It’s got everything too, scales, double stops, three crazy movements, slow parts, fast parts… There’s so much emotion in there, you can feel Tchaikovsky’s desperation about his sexuality in this, the ache and the longing.  _ ‘How else can I tell people about this? Is it just me?’  _ It’s almost like mourning, crying,” his fingers danced on his forearm as he mimicked the music in his head, and Eddy looked. Wanted to hear it.

As he sat back beside his desk partner, on time for afternoon rehearsal, warm and relaxed, lips still tugged in a grin, he allowed himself to forget about last year, about his humiliating morning and enjoy playing with the damn London Symphonic Orchestra.

*

He had gravely underestimated just how huge the Barbican was, and if he couldn’t find his way back from the restroom to the music hall in the next - Eddy checked his phone - four minutes, he would have spent his entire fifteen-minute break lost in the Centre. 

Several people had passed by him, but nobody related to the orchestra, and he had been too shy to stop them and ask for directions.

_ Alright, Eddy, _ he psyched himself up,  _ next person you cross paths with, you ask.  _

“Ah, Eddy, there you are!” Doris Zimmerman stopped him before he stepped into another random corridor.

“Oh- Hello- I mean, yes- I mean, sorry about this morning. I really didn’t know it was eight,” he blabbered and wanted to bury himself under the music hall.

“It’s alright, love, I heard about what happened last year from your sister, I can cut you some slack for your first day,” she patted him on the arm and he felt his skin crawl, “the people writing those emails never listen to me, it’s terrible what management does this day, don’t you agree?”

“Huh, yes? Miss Zimmerman,” he added in a hurry, keeping his emotions under lock.

“I wanted to have a chat with your sister about a future performance of her, so I’ll drive you home since I’m at it. Wait for me after rehearsal.”

“Oh. Huh, okay, Miss Zimmerman.”

“You can call me Doris, dear.”

“Understood, Miss Z- I mean, Doris.”

“Good boy,” she probably tried to smile, but it seemed her lips couldn’t be pulled in that direction, and she just offered him a weird grimace before storming in another direction with her blond curls swaying.

With the hopes she was going toward the music hall, Eddy stepped after her. If he arrived at the same time as the conductor, he wasn’t technically late, was he? 

“Well, someone’s got connections, hey,” he heard a snort and turned to see Brett leaning against a wall.

His face was far less friendly than earlier despite not being overly hostile. He just looked disappointed.

“It’s not like that,” Eddy’s neck burned. “I passed an audition like everyone else.”

He didn’t want to have to explain himself, especially not to someone he had just met, but his stomach churned with how closed his desk partner’s expression was. 

“I’m not accusing you,” Brett raised his hands, but his tone was flat.

“What are you even doing here?” Eddy snapped, not liking the judgment he could feel emanating from him. “You’re late too now.”

“I thought you had gotten lost and went to look for you so you didn’t have to go through another painful episode like this morning.”

“Oh,” he deflated. “Thank you.”

“And no, we aren’t late, Zimmerman went to get a smoothie so we’ve got another fifteen-minute reprieve.”

“A smoothie?”

Confusion must have spread on his face because a smile sprung up on Brett’s lips again.

“Yeah, she’s addicted. In the three months I’ve been there, I think she has interrupted rehearsal at least thrice a week for her smoothies. C’mon follow me, we still better be ready when she comes back.”

“Thanks,” he fell in step beside him, looking around and trying to remember the path to the music hall.

It was only the sound of their shoes meeting the floor resonating in the corridor, no conversation between them. The silence still held its tense tendrils and uneasiness was eating him up.

“Okay, sorry,” Brett finally blurted. “I’m too curious now, how do you know Zimmerman?”

Eddy was almost relieved he had breached the subject.

“It’s nothing like what you imagine.”

“I’m not sure I want to imagine anything with Zimmerman in it,” Brett scrunched his nose and Eddy laughed, tension seeping from him already.

He made it easy to talk to him.

Words fell freely from his mouth then, about his sister, the brilliant pianist, how she had worked with Zimmerman for some of her projects, and how she had asked if the LSO would be willing to audition a music student coming from an Australian conservatorium looking for an internship.

By the time he came to London for his audition, Doris Zimmerman had already forgotten all about him, had blinked owlishly when Belle had thanked the conductor for allowing her little brother to try his chance the day after his audition.

_ Oh, darling,  _ she had laughed,  _ do you know how many people with the surname Chen I’ve heard in the last few days? There is no way for me to remember which one was your little brother, I hope he was one of those good enough to hold my attention. _

Coming from an unknown university in Brisbane, he would never have had the chance to apply for the LSO were it not for Belle, he was aware of it, but he was proud to say it was the Barber’s third movement he had played on his audition day that had gotten him here in the end.

“Sorry I reacted like that, dude,” Brett nudged his knee with his own as they sat in front of their music stand. “I really shouldn’t have made any quick judgment. But I just worked so fucking hard to get my own internship, and I saw so many of my friend’s devastated faces when they got their letter of refusal, it just- just didn’t sit well with me when I thought- well, anyway, my point is just, it would have sucked if you had only gotten here because of connections. I’m glad it’s not the case,” he smiled, crinkles back at the corner of his eyes.

“Yeah, I understand, connections always pissed me off in competitions, in an ideal world we would only be judged on the music we make. Or not judged at all.”

“That would be cool, hey,” Brett snorted. “Didn’t you also have a mate who was supposed to be interning here? Did he audition at the same time as you?”

“No, Jordon has his own mysterious ways. I think he might be a warlock, but maybe I’m wrong and he’s actually a witch. I would still appreciate it if he could at least send me smoke signals so I know he’s alive because he told me he was supposed to be in the LSO with me and there’s no sight of him.”

“Ah, if your friend comes here you’re gonna ditch me then, shame,” his deskie joked with a side smile. 

Eddy didn’t have the opportunity to answer, because the conductor sauntered in the music hall at that moment, smoothie in hand, and all musicians had their instruments in theirs.

*

Jordon did manage to do even better than smoke signals and remember he had a phone around six in the evening, as Eddy was still sitting in the empty music hall, waiting for Zimmerman to show up.

“Mate!” he yelled on the receiver as soon as he took the call. “Where the fuck were you?”

_ “In a London orchestra.” _

“I was there the whole day, and I can attest you weren’t,” Eddy shot back drily.

_ “I never said which orchestra in London…”  _

Dread and amusement started pooling low in his stomach, the mix making his lips twitch up but his eyes widen in horror as he started getting an inkling of where this was going. 

“You fucking moron, tell me you didn’t…”

Laughter was bubbling in his chest, teasing the tip of his tongue. 

_ “Yeah, there was kind of a mix up in my mind, and I mistakenly ended up applying and auditioning for the London City Philharmonic, not the LSO,” _ Jordan hummed with way too much calm for someone who had told his whole friends and family he would be playing in an orchestra for which he hadn’t even applied.

“How?” Eddy was fully laughing by now, head thrown back. “How did you even- Holy- Oh shit, Jordon. The initials aren’t even the same, the location isn’t the same, the- like the only thing they have in common are being an orchestra and being in London.”

_ “I was focused on a piece when I did the paperwork and everything, the details quickly slipped my mind.” _

“This isn’t a detail!” Eddy wheezed. “Damn, my morning was a walk in the park compared to your situation. You have to know, I’ll tell every one of our friends about this, there’s no way I can be the only one to make fun of you. Are they even a professional orchestra?”

_ “I’m not completely sure yet, but they’re really cool. I checked up with Griffith, and it still counts as a valid end of year internship. They are giving young composers a chance to have their works performed, so I’m gonna try my chance, my mistake was kind of a blessing in disguise if this ends up working out.” _

“Trust you to unknowingly get out of such a stupid mistake with more advantages than if you had indeed gotten the internship for the LSO.”

“ _ I did think I had gotten in pretty easy for one of the best orchestras in the world. It kinda makes sense now...” _

“Oh, man… I can’t believe you,” Eddy sagged in his chair, smile still pulling at his face, the empty room reverberated his laugh, acoustic of choice to disperse his hilarity. The emptiness of the music hall echoed inside of him, as he sat alone. As realization settled inside of him with each breath. “Then… It means I’ll be alone here, I suppose.”

_ “Yeah, sorry about that, Eddy. I truly thought we would be interning in the same orchestra. I hope the other musicians there aren’t all pretentious asses from, like, the Royal College of Music or the Royal Academy of music.” _

“You know me, I barely talked to anyone, I’m too shy. Also, I arrived half an hour late and got chewed off in front of the entire orchestra, then I dropped my phone, and got tangled in my clothes, and- well, long story short, my morning was horrible,” he sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, putting his legs up on the seat in front of him, playing mindlessly with the scarf wrapped around the back of his chair, “Thank God my deskie is extra nice. He saved my day honestly, offered me lunch and everything, he’s an intern too so we’re the only ones under twenty-five here.”

_ “I can’t believe I literally went with the wrong orchestra, and you somehow had a worse day than me.” _

“It’s a gift.”

_ “Alright, my battery is gonna die, I have to go, mate, you have your Mondays and your Tuesdays free right?” _

“Yeah.”

_ “Let’s meet then, with some luck you’ll have some humiliating stories for me by then.” _

“Fuck you,” he laughed before hanging up, shaking his head.

Jordon was from another planet.

“Hey, mate, what are you still doing here?”

  
His heart jumped in his chest, spilled through his lips, body carried in the momentum, and he yelped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Enlaurement24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enlaurement24/pseuds/enlaurement24)'s works, in general, have that confusing quality for me, you feel like you’re walking in mist and seeing blurry shapes move around you, not really sure of what's going on, colors and sounds are mixing, then something sharp comes from the mist and hits you unexpectedly. I really appreciate drowning in their writing, I don't think I have more words to describe it.
> 
> My favorite one so far must be [raspberry glue for the cracks in your soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23649289), it hurts terribly while being very soft, I think back on it way more than I probably should, it's a little wonder of a fic and the kind that stays with you afterward.


	3. Chapter 2: Music in the car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Brett had said they would spend a lot of time together, Eddy didn’t think it would be this much. They sat side by side during rehearsal, started giggling and quietly fooling around during the most boring parts, imitating Zimmerman’s nasal voice or one of the first violins’ pinched expression. They ate lunch together, spent their break chatting or showing each other silly videos, and every once in a while, Brett would drive Eddy back to his sister’s place. They took turns choosing the music that would be blasting in the car - Eddy wasn’t very knowledgeable about London’s geography, but he suspected his deskie was purposefully driving around in circles so that he could drop off Eddy exactly on the end of a movement or a piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sibelius drop was brilliant!!! :D my best friend and I had to wake up at 3:30 to watch it but it was worth every minute of lost sleep!!
> 
> I'm so happy, it was just so good... I almost didn't post today because I was half-dead and hadn't drawn any art for this chapter, but then I said I would publish on Saturday and I try to keep by my word as best as I can :) so I scribbled some badly drawn breddy (it's really bad, but I told myself I would make a drawing per chapter and I would like to stick to it for longer than two chapters xD) and finished up a chapter today, I'm kinda impressed at myself since I'm a walking zombie today (but a happy one).
> 
> Enjoy :)

# Chapter 2: Music in the car

Brett was standing a few steps behind him, raised eyebrows.

“Also, that’s my scarf,” he added, pointing at the grey piece of fabric Eddy had been manhandling during his call.

“Fuck! You scared the shit out of me,” his hand was fisted in his shirt, above his thundering chest. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “you scared me too, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting to hear voices coming from the music hall at this hour, why aren’t you getting home? Wait… You do have a place to go back to, right? You’re not planning on spending the night here?”

Squinted eyes and suspicion - the guy had known him for barely a day, and already thought he was homeless. Great, he had definitely given the right impression. 

“No! No, I do- I mean, I live with my sister. It’s just- I, huh- I’m waiting for Zimmerman, she told me she would drive me home cause she wanted to speak with her.”

“Oh, dude...” his deskie ran a hand through his hair and bit his lower lip. It was hard to pinpoint if it was to stop pity or laughter from spilling out. “She left ages ago, she must have forgotten.”

“Oh.” He could feel his face drop. Damn, how lame must he look, waiting for two hours in an empty room for somebody who was never going to show up? “It’s okay,” he got up and started gathering his violin case and coat, trying to play it off as inconsequential. Brett had not seen the best side of him today, no need to give him more reason to think Eddy was a helpless, abandoned puppy. “And what are _you_ doing here?” he shot back to divert attention from his reddening cheeks.

“I came back for my scarf. That is still in your hand.”

Eddy let go of it as if it burned.

The scarf fell on the floor.

“Thanks, I guess,” Brett snorted, lips losing the battle and twitching up.

_Good God._

“Sorry, didn’t mean to do that,” he bent down to pick it up.

His phone fell on the floor.

He couldn’t even hear himself swear, covered by Brett’s burst of giggles, bent over the chair, wheezing and coughing around his hilarity.

“Oh, mate, I haven’t laughed that much since I joined the LSO, this was the best day.”

“Glad to be of service,” bite nudged itself into his voice, giving sharper edges to his tone.

The schadenfreude was pissing him off a bit, tiredness pulled at his limbs, irritation simmering low. He had had his fair share of failed social interactions for the day, and his deskie was just laughing at him like there was no tomorrow. He had come to London to escape, to take a breath from the stifling atmosphere of his own home and the echoing loneliness of the walls, to play and live his dream and lose himself in music, not to be ridiculed and feel a deeper edge of solitude carve itself in his heart.

“Fuck, sorry. You’ve had a crappy day, I shouldn’t make fun of you. I’ll give you a ride home, alright?”

“I’m fine. I heard public transportation in London is great,” he snapped back.

“C’mon, don’t sweat it, I’m really sorry for laughing,” the crinkles at the corner of his eyes appeared, his voice softened and it was a bit unfair how it mellowed Eddy. “It’s to make it up to you for making assumptions about your relationship with Zimmerman. I promise I won’t do unnecessary chit chat if you don’t want to talk.”

Damn, he had been figured out very quickly. Embarrassing when Brett’s personality was still so hard for him to grasp, outside of “nice and warm”.

“If that’s not too much of a bother...”

“Nah, it’s cool, really. I like driving.”

“Who likes to drive in central London?”

“C’mon, indulge me,” he burst out laughing.  “It’s your first day and everything, plus my car’s a hybrid so I don’t pay the congestion charge, it’s really no bother.”

“Alright then.”

The smile Brett gave him was blinding.

*

“So, I’m extra nice, huh?”

Of course, he heard that, Murphy’s law never failed to disappoint.

“Maybe I was talking about another deskie.”

“Wow, we have a third deskie, and he ended up buying you lunch too? Damn, dude, lucky you.”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be a silent ride?”

“My bad,” Brett chuckled, a smirk pointing at the corner of his lips. “Can I still put on some music?”

“I can’t say no to that.”

There was a glance in his direction, the smile growing a bit more as Brett grabbed at his phone, the car purring at a red traffic light, Londoners crossing the street in front of them, the heating making its way into Eddy’s limbs, relaxed in the leather seats.

Then the first notes of the Sibelius Violin Concerto expanded into their space, warming his chest despite the frost lingering in the melody. Cold and intimate.

To his right, Brett’s lips had stretched into a full grin, probably proud of himself for remembering.

The grey sky, low clouds, and busy city disappeared as Eddy closed his eyes, his soul swinging to the rhythm of the violin, cushioned by the rumble of the car.

At some point, he started humming, and Brett, true to his word, didn’t open his mouth once for the rest of the ride.

*

By the time he crashed in bed at around ten, exhaustion seeping from his skin to his bones, he was tempted to forget all about this day. However Eddy had to make sure everyone knew about his super nice deskie who was not Jordon, but had gotten him lunch, drove him back, and remembered his favorite concerto, so he ended up telling about his day more times than he cared for - bad parts included.

Belle had laughed at him around dinner, warned him that if she didn’t write down somewhere, or if Richard Stenhouse wasn’t on her back reminding her constantly, Doris Zimmerman instantly forgot anything that wasn’t score or music - _Don’t rely on her for anything other than producing beautiful music._

Lesson learned.

Toni’s voice on the phone washed over him, and at that point he wasn’t really listening to her words, letting the inflections of her tone lull him.

“ _Are you falling asleep?_ ” she whispered when she noticed answers trickled slower.

“Huh.”

_“Isn’t it ten in London?”_

“Huh.”

_“Eddy, falling asleep before midnight?”_ she chuckled softly. _“Miracles do happen.”_

“Jetlag miracle,” he mumbled back, face smushed into a pillow.

“ _Good night,_ ” she hummed with so much fondness his heart melted. _“I love you_.”

“Love you too,” he barely breathed before passing out.

*

Of the advantages of being in the vicinity of Brett, he learned the next day, the way it opened him to the rest of the orchestra members was one of the best.

No effort was required on his part, he could just stay there and let his deskie do the small talk, only participating once in a while, and people adopted him by association.

It was kind of crazy to him, the way Brett just seemed to exude charm, smile easy on his lips, and a sentence always at the ready to make the people around him feel good. He had only been here three months before Eddy, was almost twenty years younger than the average of the orchestra members, but from the way people gathered around him, it would have been impossible to tell.

Still, today again, Brett offered Eddy - and only Eddy - to have lunch with him. Restaurants weren’t lacking around the Barbican Centre, and his deskie had declared he would try them all before the end of his internship. It was a new thing for Eddy to add to his list of Brett’s characteristics - he liked good food. In two days, the painting he had of Brett in his mind started to gain more density, the rough sketch of a person who was warm and charming, loved to drive and eat, vibrated with the passion of Tchaikovsky - someone who enjoyed life and was determined to live it to its fullest.

They had ended up in this nice Japanese place with plants crawling from the outdoor terrace, wooden constructs letting flowers paint their color in the grey March of London - they sat outside despite the cold. The table was wobbly but the rice was good, tasty, and well-cooked, and the fish was fresh. The waitress got flustered when Brett complimented her, vowels dragging in something familiar.

“Why do you have an Aussi accent?” Eddy wondered around a mouthful. “Aren’t you from London?”

“Ah, no, I only came here when I got accepted at the Royal College of Music,” Brett scratched his nose - he had nice fingers, nice nose too. “I’m from Brisbane, actually.”

“Really?” he blinked out of his musings about fingers and noses. “Wow! Mate, what a coincidence, me too!”

“Dude, no way!” Brett burst out laughing. “That’s so funny, we might have passed each other in the street before.”

“Who knows, maybe we went to the same school or had the same friends without being aware.”

“Damn, the world’s a small place.” 

His deskie leaned back in his chair, crinkles at the corner of his eyes, but then lost his balance - the table wasn’t the only wobbly piece of furniture - and promptly latched on to the railing to avoid falling with a shout rivaling the Queen of the Night in pitch. 

It was Eddy’s turn to laugh at him.

*

Their concertmaster spotted them just as they were about to get inside the Barbican Centre and started chatting with them on their way to the music hall, which quickly transformed into chatting with Brett, because Eddy was awkward like that. She was so tiny and upbeat that paired off with Brett's own size and energy, Eddy felt like he was supervising two hyper kids despite probably being the youngest.

“Lovely to have you here, Eddy,” she patted him on the shoulder. “It’s rare to have students from Australia here. I’m sorry if Doris gives you too much trouble, she’s not mean I swear. But anyway, if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask, I’ll probably have the answer.”

“She isn’t lying,” Brett piped in, lips climbing up at the right corner of his mouth. “Erica does know everything, she’s a mine of information and I would have been lost without her.”

“Pff, as if you really needed my help, you’re doing just fine on your own. I’m sure I’ll see you on the first violins section very soon,” Erica giggled, mock hitting Brett.

“If that means being able to play closer to you, I can’t wait,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

All he got in return was an eye roll that couldn’t hide how pleased she was at the compliment. Eddy raised his eyebrows at the blatant flirting as she walked back to her own seat at the front.

“Are you two… ?” he started.

“Erica and I?” Brett laughed before glancing up at Eddy with a smirk. “Oh. Dude. No. I’m gay.”

So, Eddy concluded, Brett was just that kind of person - the one who flirted with anyone without any other purpose than making their interlocutor feel good. His introverted ass couldn’t relate.

*

When Brett had said they would spend a lot of time together, Eddy didn’t think it would be this much. They sat side by side during rehearsal, started giggling and quietly fooling around during the most boring parts, imitating Zimmerman’s nasal voice or one of the first violins’ pinched expression. They ate lunch together, spent their break chatting or showing each other silly videos, and every once in a while, Brett would drive Eddy back to his sister’s place. They took turns choosing the music that would be blasting in the car - Eddy wasn’t very knowledgeable about London’s geography, but he suspected his deskie was purposefully driving around in circles so that he could drop off Eddy exactly on the end of a movement or a piece.

From eight in the morning to seven in the afternoon, it was nothing but Brett.

Of course, Toni noticed. Her sympathy at him having someone to hang out with morphed, taking ugly colors she tried to keep from staining their discussion, but Eddy knew her. They had been friends for the past two years, and together for more than six months now, he could feel the silent disapproval in her voice.

“You don’t need to be jealous, hey,” he had said softly. “He’s just a nice dude I’ve known for barely a week.”

_“I think he’s flirting with you.”_

“Believe me, he’s not - or, at least, it doesn't mean anything coming from him. You should see the way he’s with everyone. Damn he’s even charming around Zimmerman, the man has no limit,” he tried to fight back a smile.

_“How can you be sure? You’re spending so much time with him…”_

Insecurities were filtering, and he couldn’t let her think that, he shifted - posture, tone, mindset. Joking around wouldn't do any good now, she needed to be taken seriously and reassured.

“Hey, Toni, listen to me. Even so, what if he is? How is that supposed to change the fact that I love you? I’m not gonna fall in love with every random chick or dude that’s a tiny bit nice to me. You trust me, right?”

_“No, I mean- Yes, I know, I trust you, Eddy,”_ he could hear the smile in her tone, could imagine the way she was probably leaning her head on the side, playing with her hair. 

“I know you do. And I’m in a relationship with you, and you’re my priority, alright? If it makes you feel better, I can try to put some distance between my deskie and me.”

It would pain him to do so, the fear of loneliness already creeping under his ribs, but he knew how jealousy tasted, bitter under the tongue until it invaded your whole mouth, and he would never wish that on her, would never wish that to poison their relationship, green drop by green drop. 

_“No, no. Don’t. You’re right, I can’t police who you hang out with anyway, I really don’t want to be that kind of girlfriend.”_

“You’re not, you’re the best and you’re allowed to be a bit jealous, it’s kinda cute, you’ve never been before,” tease was filtering, his voice pitched higher - he couldn’t let her feel bad about it. 

“ _Well, I’d rather not experience it too much,_ ” she laughed. “ _But don’t feel like you have to keep yourself from having friends because of your jealous girlfriend overseas. If you stop talking to me about Brett, I’ll know it’s because of me, and I don’t want that, so keep hanging out with him, I want you to be happy._ ”

“See? I told you you were the best.”

There was a giggle that warmed him from the inside, and Belle passed her head by the door, already rolling her eyes.

“When you’re done being mushy, can you give me your opinion on something I composed?”

“I’ll put Toni on speaker so we can both criticize you,” he shot back.

“Ahah. Funny. I think someone will have to cook his own dinner tonight.”

“You know I can’t.”

“I know you can’t,” mirth was sparkling in her voice as she danced toward the living room where he followed her, phone still pressed against his ear, smile still pressed against his lips.

*

Stage performance never failed to eat him from the inside, how he had survived his audition for the LSO was still unknown to him. Eyes closed and musicality taking over his trembling fingers. A moment of grace. 

The thing with moments of grace is that they only happened once in a while, in desperate situations. And it would seem playing as second violin for a regular Saturday concert wasn’t eligible for a moment of grace, even if it was his first concert ever with the LSO and he had almost dropped his bow three times, nerves shaking his hands with no mercy. 

The only mercy was in his deskie’s eyes, and Eddy wasn’t sure he appreciated being pitied once again. But then there was a warm hand on his shoulder, seeping in his skin through his clothes, and a foot nudging the point of his shoe, disturbing his toes. 

“Don’t worry, you can fake play if you don’t feel capable of surviving the concert, I won’t say a word.”

There was a twinkle in Brett’s eyes - something that felt like a challenge, and Eddy had bitten before he could realize it.

“I don’t need to fake play, I got this internship for a reason, and I’ll play like everybody else, no need to cover for me,” he snapped.

“I see,” Brett smirked. “Well good luck, let’s honor Tchaikovsky’s music.”

And they did. The Sixth Symphony slithered from their instrument, crawled on the floor, rampant until it filled the air, exploding, aching and painful under their fingers, Zimmerman looked demented on the stage, blond hair flying and face contorted into grimaces held back by Botox, taking the soul of her musicians as a price for the melody reverberating, feeding the music-starved souls of spectators, a contract worth every drop of sweat rolling on his forehead. 

This was why he was here, this was why he was sixteen thousand kilometers away from home, this was why the humiliation of his first day had been worth it, the hours of practice and jet lag. He was playing with some of the best musicians in the world, and their instruments answered and echoed when they weren’t supporting each other, a conversation and a fusion. 

He wouldn’t regret coming to London. 

*

“I know you baited me with that provocation earlier, and just because it worked doesn’t mean you can do that again,” he hissed in his deskie’s ear during recess.

“Whatever you say,” Brett snickered, lips tight around the laughter trying to escape.

“You first D was flat,” he shot back, then worried about maybe being looking like a showy asshole but Brett just laughed and nudged him, Eddy’s worries melting against the easy way he was carrying himself.

“You look good in that, by the way.”

Weirdly self-conscientious, Eddy ran a hand on his dress shirt, flattening the few creases that had persisted even after Belle had ironed it.

“Thanks. Literally the only piece of formal wear I own. I hate it, the bowtie was strangling me through the whole Symphony.”

“Dude, same. It’s one of the only advantages of ballet, you can kiss the bowtie goodbye since nobody sees you in the pit.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Believe me, you’ll regret saying that.”

*

The buzz of performance was still lingering around, vibrating under his skin, fingers still feeling invisible strings under their tip. Yes, he had played very safely, keeping his notes piano the entire time, but he hadn’t screwed up, hadn’t fake played, and pride was still simmering. Anxiety never managed to rear its ugly head, hands steady throughout, and maybe his deskie sending him amused glances throughout had been a tiny bit responsible for that.

“Nice job, I thought you would dissolve in a jittery mess at the first few notes,” Belle waited for him backstage - knowing Zimmerman came with its advantages. “Ready to go home?”

“I guess I won’t drive you today, then,” a head popped up behind him. “Hi, you must be Eddy’s sister, nice to meet you, I’m Brett,” he extended a hand, nice smile and crinkles already in place. 

“I heard about you, yeah, the super nice deskie.”

Would Belle miss an opportunity to embarrass him? No, of course not. 

“That would be me,” he laughed with a side glance to Eddy. “Good genes run in the family, it seems.”

God damnit, was the fucker trying to charm his sister, too?

“Sorry about my little brother,” she dismissed the compliment, “he can be a bit clingy when he gets attached.”

“I, huh-” Brett faltered, lips twitching up as he shot a lost look at Eddy; confusion and amusement at war on his face.

“Ignore her, it boosts her ego to think of me as a pet.”

“I’ll let you siblings sort that out,” he chuckled and backtracked. “See you, Eddy.”

*

“I think I scared him,” smugness filtered in Belle’s voice as they squeezed in the tube of the Barbican Underground Station, the amount of people in a suit around them a clear indicator most of the people were coming back from the concert too.

“How is that an achievement?”

“I like being the terrifying big sister,” she grabbed one of the metallic handles when the tube shook forward.

“You weren’t terrifying, just plain embarrassing.”

She laughed and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s my right as the eldest. It’s retribution for all the times you woke me up in the middle of the night as a kid. Also, I iron your concert attire and make you food, I deserve to embarrass you in front of your friends.”

“I wouldn’t say Brett’s my friend, I don’t really know him.”

“Well, you were right, he seems nice - and charming. You have six months to spend here, maybe by the end of your internship, you’ll have a new best friend,” she teased, nudging Eddy to point him to two free seats as the mass trickled out at a station, giving them some breathing space.

“You’ve scared him away, remember? It’s your fault if I live a friendless life.”

“The guy faced central London’s traffic almost every evening for a whole week to drive you home, I would say he’s pretty committed to this budding friendship you’ve got going.”

“We’re just hanging out,” Eddy shrugged, letting his eyes wander, his eyes catching on the reflection of his sister’s face on the window, the glass cool on his forehead. 

If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear Sibelius in the car, feel Brett’s side glances as he drove, soft humming, and a smile was already perking on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone here probably already knows [Twosetmerridian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosetmeridian/pseuds/twosetmeridian)’s works but the one I want to talk about is this post apocalyptic beautiful au that was the one that made me really enjoy her writing. Beautiful and heartwrenching work: [Our new wilderness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25651087). One of her best, in my opinion, it just keeps floating in your mind long after you finished it, every word mattered in this.


	4. Chapter 3: Best deskie in the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, now I should be able to warn you if anything comes up,” Brett hummed around a mouthful of steak as he was punching the last digits of his number into Eddy’s phone. “It’s kind of a shame because seeing you come in breathless and lost was kinda the best part of my day.”
> 
> “You need better days,” Eddy shot back drily, knife digging in the meat on his plate.
> 
> “Hey,” he laughed. “Musician life, I don’t do anything but practice. Making fun of my deskie brightens up my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :D It would seem I can stand by a bi-weekly update.
> 
> I've got a small love confession to writing to make.
> 
> I've written since I was a little kid, always wanted to do that, my mother always believed I would be a writer one day. Now my job is to be an actual writer, and I love it, then the minute I get a break, I just switch documents and write fanfictions xD writing is my whole life, and before coming to this fandom, I hadn't really tried my hand at fanfictions. I have to admit though, putting my work out there, for free, for everyone who might like to access, it feels so rewarding. It's been bringing me so much joy and I've been enjoying every part of this process, so yeah, I'm having a really good time doing this, and I really hope the people out there who read this are having a nice time too :)
> 
> Thank you Ria for the beta reading <3

# Chapter 3: Best deskie in the world

“I hate my life.”

The clock on his phone showed the number 7:40.

The chairs in the music hall showed nothing but emptiness.

How? Where did a whole freaking orchestra disappear? Since his debacle on the first day a week ago, he had always made sure to always come by half an hour before eight, just in case, and most of the musicians would already be seated and tuning when he arrived.

Was Wednesday a day off? Had he missed an email? Was today a European holiday he knew nothing about? 

“Fuck that shit,” he mumbled under his breath, starting to type an email to the LSO’s administration, already backtracking in search of the Barbican Centre’s information desk. With some luck, they would have some clue about the schedule since apparently being a musician _in_ the LSO wasn’t enough to know about it.

Anxiety started pulling at his guts and he tried to ignore it. Nothing good would come out of him panicking, he still had twenty minutes to figure out if the orchestra was relocated elsewhere before being officially late - his hands still shook on his phone.

“Excuse me, young man?”

He snapped his head up. A well-built man in his late sixties, white hair combed back and glasses resting on his nose, was looking at him. 

“I- Yeah? I mean, Yes?”

“Would you happen to be a musician?” the man pointed toward the case resting on his back.

Eddy instantly stood straighter. 

There was something about his demeanor - in the way his suit was perfectly tailored, not a crease to be found, in his gait, back straight, gestures speaking of hidden strength, and despite his age, the man could probably send Eddy to the floor in under a minute if he wished so - that pushed to respect.

He was smiling with indulgence, though, wrinkles around his eyes and mouth creasing and it reminded him so strongly of- he shook his head.

“I- I am, yes. I’m with- I’m an intern with the LSO. But they’re not here.”

“Ah, I thought so,” the man laughed. “We only have two interns and I have met Brett Yang already, so you must be Eddy Chen, right?”

“That would be me, sir.”

“No need to call me sir, I’m Richard Stenhouse, the financial director of the LSO, but Richard is fine. Nice to meet you, I must point out though that Doris decided to move rehearsal from nine to eight - without informing me so, may I add. You should head there soon.”

“I know it’s eight, sir. Miss Zimmerman told me so on the first day when I arrived late. But like I said, nobody’s here today, sir- I mean, Richard.”

“Why, of course, they’re not here, the orchestra is having an open practice at St Luke’s today.”

“Where?” he squeaked out, aware of the way his voice had climbed octaves but unable to care.

“See?” the man frowned and huffed. “This is why I ought to send those emails despite Doris telling me she should be the one handling it, information never goes around otherwise.”

As nice as the old man was, Eddy wished we would stop the chit chat and just tell him where the fuck St Luke’s was, nervousness climbing in his throat. One week had started with him not being at the right time and the one straight after with him not being at the right place. Brilliant.

He nodded politely as Stenhouse kept venting about the musical director, fingers already searching for St Luke’s localization on his phone.

A ten-minute walk from the Barbican Centre, perfect. If he ran the whole way, he could make it with five minutes to spare. Enough time to tune his violin and pretend he wasn’t breathless.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt you, sir-”

“Richard.”

“Yes, Richard, but I have to go _right now_.”

“Oh, yes, of course, I didn’t mean to hold you back. If you are late don’t worry, tell Doris it’s her fault for forgetting to give you the right information.”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to do that,” he choked on his spit, a nervous laugh bubbling at the corner of his lips.

“Right,” Stenhouse blinked, as if confused by the fact that a second violin on an internship couldn’t talk back to an established conductor thrice his age. “I’ll do it then. Go, now.”

“Thank you so much for the information, it was very nice to meet you, s- Richard” he made sure to remember his manners before sprinting away.

Laughter finally spilled as he ran, zigzagging between people, a hand firm on the handle of his case, glancing at his phone every once in a while to check he was on the right path.

That old man was so weird and strangely endearing, with his pressed suit and fancy manner of speech but kind eyes and grudge against Zimmerman.

*

“Where were you? I had to tune my violin on my own, like a normal person,” Brett teased as Eddy wheezed beside him, legs shaky and lungs too small, heart pumping blood to oxygen-starved organs with fury.

He should start working out.

“You- you need to give me your phone number or- or something,” Eddy just breathed back, unclasping his case open and melting in his chair, legs spread open, chest still heaving.

A few other musicians sent him looks, and one first violinist rolled his eyes at Eddy’s state. His entrance hadn’t been of the most discreet when half of the seats facing the orchestra were already filled by the audience who had raised their eyebrows at the almost late musician fighting his way to his stand.

“Dude,” his deskie snickered. “What the heck happened this time?” 

“Wrong fucking place. I showed up at the Barbican Hall like an idiot and wondered why it was empty.”

He heard some chuckles around him and could feel a blush climbing on his face, hiding his embarrassment behind his violin, he tuned in a few seconds, internally thanking his perfect pitch.

“Oh shit,” Brett was laughing, hands on his stomach. “Man, you’re like, perpetual entertainment.”

The principal second violinist craned her neck and gave him a shy smile, her red hair curling around her cheekbones.

“Don’t worry, Zimmerman messing around with the schedule threw all of us in a loop at the beginning,” she seemed to be around his mother’s age, an Irish accent dragged her vowels around. “You’ll get used to it, I’m sure. If in doubt just send an email to Stenhouse or ask Erica,”

“Yeah! Do ask me!” the leader waved her hand from her seat, so tiny it was barely visible above everyone’s head.

Laughter rippled from the front to the back of the orchestra, like the warmth spreading inside of him, the feeling of acceptance making his toes tingle.

“I met Stenhouse this morning actually, he was the one who told me rehearsal was at St Luke’s today, he seemed a bit pissed that I didn’t know.”

“Oh, it’s war between him and Zimmerman. I don’t know how they managed to work together for so long without killing each other,” she giggled before glancing toward the front of the stage, “speaking of which, she’s here, I hope you practiced.”

The way she uttered the last words definitely reminded him of his mother.

He snorted and looked to his left just in time to see Brett’s eyes snap up from his thighs, tongue wetting his lower lip.

For half a second he thought he had a stain from breakfast on his white pants before realization hit that he was still sprawled out on his chair, legs spread on each side of the seat, and scrambled up to a proper sitting position.

“Good morning everyone,” Zimmerman’s voice drawled, addressing the audience as well as her musicians. “I’m glad everyone made it on time…” Eddy had to hand it to them, nobody snickered at that - a true professional orchestra. “Ready for some Mahler?”

For the rest of morning rehearsal, Brett avoided his gaze.

*

“Alright, now I should be able to warn you if anything comes up,” Brett hummed around a mouthful of steak as he was punching the last digits of his number into Eddy’s phone. “It’s kind of a shame because seeing you come in breathless and lost was kinda the best part of my day.”

“You need better days,” Eddy shot back drily, knife digging in the meat on his plate.

“Hey,” he laughed. “Musician life, I don’t do anything but practice. Making fun of my deskie brightens up my life.”

“I can tell you jokes instead. That way you’ll still have something to laugh at without needing me to humiliate myself.”

“I don’t think your jokes can be on par with-”

“What did the violinist say to the violist?” Brett looked up at him quizzically, stuffing another piece of beef in his mouth before shrugging. “You’re shit.”

The cough was so sudden it startled Eddy, water pooling in Brett’s eyes as he was hitting his chest, trying to breathe around his laugh and his food.

“Mate… That was bad,” he emitted a strangled sound.

“You’re laughing.”

“True,” his deskie managed to get the choking under control, downing his glass of water, a smile perking up under his tears. “I also almost died.”

“What can I say, I make killer jokes.”

“Alright,” he chuckled around another cough, “I’m in for the jokes, hit me with your best ones every morning.”

“Count on it.”

They grinned at each other for a while, giddiness spreading in Eddy’s chest. It was so nice to have someone receptive to his shitty humor.

“So dumb,” Brett whispered under his breath as if for his own ears, eyes downcast on the fork playing with his food, but the smile stretching his face betrayed him.

*

Eddy burst out laughing when he scrolled down his contacts in the evening, only to find the new entry in the ‘B’ section.

“Wonder who that could be, hey.”

Dumbass.

Belle sent him a weird look.

  
  


> **Best deskie in the world**
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> Do you really do nothing but practice in your spare time?
> 
> eddy, i suppose
> 
> and I prctice a lot but no
> 
> *practice
> 
> i’m a classical musician but i’m not that lame
> 
> You literally said you did nothing but practice over lunch.
> 
> I have a terrible memory but that was six hours ago
> 
> Even I can remember
> 
> i was just tryin to get u to cume 
> 
> late again for my entertnment
> 
> *entertainment
> 
> fuck
> 
> *come
> 
> xD
> 
> Kinky
> 
> 😏
> 
> speaking about spare time
> 
> how were ur days off? 
> 
> enjoying the london scene?
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> It was cool, I was hanging out with Jordon
> 
> (my mate who was supposed to be in LSO)
> 
> We played some games and watched animes
> 
> Tried looking for a good bbt place too
> 
> I ended up disappointed
> 
> duuuuuuude!!
> 
> if u wanted bbt i’m the man to ask i’ve tried them all!
> 
> i’ll recomend u guys the best ones
> 
> i also know some great clubs for partying
> 
> Just come with us next Monday or Tuesday
> 
> I’ll offer you a bbt for all the lunches you’ve paid for me
> 
> free bbt yeah!
> 
> can’t say no
> 
> Alright, see you tomorrow dude

  
  
  


He closed the chat and looked at the clock, calculating the time difference in his mind.

Yep, Toni would be awake by now.

His smile was already softer as he pressed the call icon.

*

“Oh, man,” Jordon took a sip. “Back in Brisbane, we had those one-liter bubble teas just across from our uni, it was heaven.”

  
  


“Really?” Brett’s eyes widened. Eddy nodded with enthusiasm, too busy chewing on tapioca pearls to answer verbally. “That’s sick! Maybe I should’ve stayed in Australia, hey.”

“Oh yes, you clearly missed out, can you imagine; you could have been at Griffith instead of some unknown con like the Royal College of Music. Your loss,” Jordon deadpanned.

Jordon and Brett, to nobody’s surprise, had gotten along immediately. It would seem Eddy was attracting a certain type of person.

Both free-spirited and extroverted, purebred classical violinists, discussion never stopped flowing, they good-naturedly made fun of Eddy’s bad puns and their Monday afternoon was rhythmed by guffaws, stupid stories, and bubble tea. 

Unable to restrain his energy, Brett took them to some of his favorite parts of the city, walking until their feet hurt and their nose tinged red from the cold. Passing by the Tower of London, the bridge and Buckingham Palace, resting at Trafalgar Square before heading for Hyde Park, they went over every overrated tourist spot to Eddy’s utmost delight, already spotting all the museums he wanted to visit for next time.  
  


It all almost became overwhelming when some of Brett’s friends from the Royal College of Music had joined them and it had delved into utter chaos. Shyness had crept at the back of Eddy’s tongue, surrounded by all those faces he didn’t know and he had retreated into silence, estranged by the private jokes exchanged, unable to fit without feeling awkward. But it hadn’t lasted too long, Jordon had whispered something to Brett, and after a few jabs and pleasantries, his deskie had sent his friends away and took back his role as a tour guide.

Between a combination of walking and public transportation, going from gardens to parks, they ended up far on the outskirts of London, open spaces and greeneries flourishing under the air charged in rain, that their destination had not been fortuitous appeared clearer when Brett pointed to a tiny building a few blocks away.

“If you’re feeling tired, my place’s right here, you can come and rest for a few, and then I can drive you back so you don’t have to walk the whole way back. Perks of not living in central London.”

“Eddy was right, you _are_ super nice,” Jordon whistled.

“Oh, my God!” Eddy threw his hands up with a huff. “Since nobody can shut up when I compliment someone _once_ , I guess I’ll just stop doing it, period.”

“Damn, the world will never hear about all those other qualities I haven’t shown yet,” Brett snorted, leading the way to his flat.

“I’ll relay Eddy and carry on your legacy, don’t worry mate.”

In between laughter and tease, they made their way inside Brett’s place. Even while being so remote from the center of the capital, the flat was cramped. The main room barely fit an upright piano, the green sofa and TV separated by a table, a nook on the other side of the piano let them glimpse at a fridge in an intimate relationship with an electric hotplate and a sink, the closest thing to a cooking space in here.

Despite a few music sheets fighting for space with two empty mugs of coffee and a water bottle on the table, shoes strewn around in the entryway that would have made Eddy’s mom hiss, and a pair of Minion socks resting at the back of the sofa, the space was clean and functional.

They didn’t even try to fit all three of them on the sofa, spreading around the flat while Brett came back with some teacups, judging it was too late for coffee.

“Sorry it’s small, hey, all the money went in the car,” he joked.

The warm cups joined the forgotten coffee mugs, left to cool as Eddy and Jordon messed around on the piano, improvising a tune while Brett grabbed his violin to join them in a beautiful cacophony that dissolved in a harmony of sputtering and giggles.

“We should try to play properly together once,” Brett’s eyes crinkled. “Bring your violin next time.”

“Maybe I can also compose a quick something for us to play,” Jordon hummed, rolling his hand on the keys.

“Yeah, sure, that would be fun.”

The violin got carefully put back into its case, bow loosened as Brett’s finger got rid of the rosin excess. He was so careful around his instrument, the touch of a lover.

“How long have you had it?” the words escaped Eddy’s mouth before he had formed them in his mind.

“My violin?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh… It was my first full-size violin, so, a good while now. More than a decade. I almost only have good memories with it, I was old enough to really like violin when I got it.”

“I can relate,” Eddy snorted. “Practice used to be such a chore when I was a kid.”

“Ah, Asian parents,” Jordon exhaled with a shake of the head, the only one still making music, composing a simple tune while Brett had crashed on the sofa next to Eddy.

“Were you born in Australia?” Brett wondered, voice low, resting his elbows on his knees and fiddling with his phone.

The notes escaping the piano carried peacefulness, melting limbs and relaxing postures, a reprieve after the musical chaos that had exploded in the tiny flat, Eddy could feel his eyelids grow heavier, the room smelled like tea, cold coffee, and old furniture.

“Nah, Taiwan.”

“Dude, no way,” Brett started chuckling. 

The sound was lower than usual, nothing like the giggles that had burst into the room earlier and left their imprints on the walls. This laugh refused to disturb the new calm settling over them, the vibration going over the sofa and soothing Eddy even further.

“What is it?”

“I was born in Taiwan too.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Eddy widened his eyes, and even Jordon stopped playing for a second.

“Wait… So the two of you were born in Taiwan, both moved to Brisbane, then somehow ended up playing in the same orchestra in London, ended up being _desk partners_ in that orchestra? Damn, my dudes, that’s some next-level soulmate thing happening here.”

“I don’t believe in that shit, but I have to admit, that’s a freaky set of coincidences,” Brett pushed his hair back with a disbelieving laugh.

“We’re meant for each other,” Eddy wiggled his eyebrows, melting further on the couch, wishing he could just fall asleep here and never get up again.

“Were you like, born the exact same day too or something? Twins separated at birth?” Jordon squinted at them, maybe trying to see if they looked anything like each other, back facing the piano, laying on the keys.

“Third of March 1992, you?” Brett played along with an amused smile, phone laying forgotten on the table.

“Ah, too bad. Twenty-third of March 1993. Close though.”

“Dude! Your birthday was yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me?” their host’s mouth went agape, life vibrating around him again - Eddy thought he could almost see it, the tendrils of excitement flowing from him, trying to wrap around Eddy and tug him into Brett’s storm of energy. “Happy belated birthday, man! We _have_ to do something now. Alright, so there’s this great place for partying- I’ll get us there- We’re gonna have a great time, you’ll see!”

He was standing already, throwing their coats at Jordon and Eddy, babbling about everything they could do to celebrate, and when Eddy had felt ready to fall asleep seconds before, he found himself laughing and following already, recipient to everything Brett emitted.

*

It was the way he felt comfortable around Brett, he realized as he was dropped home with a smile and a wave, past three a.m, warm and content. Maybe because he had already exhausted all his embarrassment capital around him, and now it seemed even the worst version of him would leave his deskie unphased. As if maybe, Brett enjoyed being around Eddy just because he was being Eddy.

It was a nice thought.

*

Toni didn’t laugh when Eddy recounted the crazy coincidences surrounding Brett and himself, nestled in his bed, his enthusiasm died out as the conversation carried on, his girlfriend’s clipped answers leaving him a bit colder inside as they hung up this night. He wasn’t sleepy anymore.

The light of his phone cast a blue glow on his face as his finger hovered on the recent addition to his contacts, wanting to maybe get some of the warmth from this afternoon back in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t not mention [Ella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yo_itsella/pseuds/Ella)’s fics :D she only started putting fics on this fandom last month, but every single one of them was so good! I really hope she’ll keep writing and drown the fandom in fluff. I have a soft spot for the one shot [Romance (Andante)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28422282) where she explores the meaning behind the Korngold violin concerto and what it means for the two of them. It's short but very soft and natural. She has the best headcanons and analysis too! I’ve taken inspiration for my characterization of breddy from a bunch of her tweets and works (also, she sounds hilarious.)
> 
> Enjoy her works!


	5. Chapter 4: Spring Sonata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the end of his second month in London, he started thinking Belle was right. Brett did start to feel like a new best friend. It was crazy, how close he felt to him despite how little time he had known him for.
> 
> March had shifted into May, April flowing by in a breeze, the sky had taken a deeper edge of blue over their laughter, scarves and heavy coats had been discarded, layers shed between them, bits of skin exposed and vulnerable.
> 
> Spring brought green sprouts on dark trunks and warmed up the air floating in their conversations, the world blooming with their relationship, flower petals in their food, and insects buzzing in their ears. Music was sweeter under their fingers, celebrating life with the song of birds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! :D Here's another chapter of their relationship softly blooming. How do you like it so far? The Soulmate energy gets stronger.
> 
> Each new drawing is further confirmation that I'm a writer, not an artist, but I still try xD
> 
> Also, I decided that I was funny, so I edited the tags to add Humor
> 
> Thank you Ria for the beta reading <3

#  Chapter 4: Spring Sonata

By the end of his second month in London, he started thinking Belle was right. Brett did start to feel like a new best friend. It was crazy, how close he felt to him despite how little time he had known him for.

March had shifted into May, April flowing by in a breeze, the sky had taken a deeper edge of blue over their laughter, scarves and heavy coats had been discarded, layers shed between them, bits of skin exposed and vulnerable.

Spring brought green sprouts on dark trunks and warmed up the air floating in their conversations, the world blooming with their relationship, flower petals in their food, and insects buzzing in their ears. Music was sweeter under their fingers, celebrating life with the song of birds.

As Eddy’s shyness melted under the sun, Brett’s cool persona went with it.

It turned out they were equally as stupid.

Every joke that passed by Eddy’s lip found an audience in Brett’s cackles. They upped each other on musical puns and bad imitations, shots of ugly grimaces littered their message discussion, and barely contained snickers their rehearsals.

Any sense of decorum Brett may have had in the beginning was trampled on every time Eddy passed the door of his flat to hang out - sometimes with Jordon or Brett’s friends, sometimes just the two of them.

He swore a lot, always clad in the same nuance of grey shirts, partied too much, and was bad with alcohol. His spelling was atrocious and he tended to make snap judgments about people then wouldn’t budge about it, which gritted at the corner of Eddy’s open-mindedness. He could be dismissive of newer interpretations for some of his favorite pieces, sure of his likes and dislikes. He didn’t think before talking sometimes, words tumbling awkwardly, and it was just retribution for all the times he had embarrassed himself in front of his deskie that Eddy could make fun of him too, neck thrown back in laughter. 

Where he had been a cool senior taking Eddy under his wing for the first few weeks, charming and hard to read, it had only taken two months for Brett to plunge into the endearing and idiotic friend category.

Admiration hadn’t died, though, kept alive by all those new aspects he kept discovering. The world  _ did  _ hear about all of Brett Yang’s qualities, despite his proclamation that he would stop complimenting the man.

It didn’t help that he was so talented on the violin.

He had to be good at his instrument, Eddy had reasonably known before, Brett had made it into the Royal College of Music, after all, had gotten accepted for an internship in the London Symphony Orchestra, both Zimmerman and Stenhouse had complimented him on separate occasions.

But it hadn’t hit until he had heard his desk partner  _ really  _ play, taking on Paganini’s Caprice 24th during a practice session, one evening they were hanging out at Brett’s flat for no other reason than enjoying each other’s company.

His mouth had fallen open, eyes widening as Brett’s hands ran on the fingerboard, pressing, pinching, and releasing strings with such perfect technique it left him a little bit jealous, nailing the left-hand pizzicato with a smirk on his face, eyes closed, brow rising and creasing with the accents.

“You’re showing off,” Eddy had accused when Brett lowered his bow, mouth still tugged up in a grin, smugness making his eyes sparkle under his glasses.

“I am, are you impressed?”

“A bit,” he had admitted, biting his lower lip, gaze lingering on Brett’s small hands with renewed fascination.

His new friend’s mood had been at an all-time high for the two days that had followed.

They played together a lot after that, speeding through Czardas with high spirits, giggling around a mouthful of failed Ysaÿe, and smiling above Sarasate. Duets were slowly filling Eddy’s sheet music collection and he felt giddy every time he practiced them, already imagining how good they would sound whenever he nailed a hard passage - imagining Brett’s thumb-ups when he got that high note.

Even if it was in the flurry of music that most of Brett Yang’s best qualities expanded - how hard working he was, dedicated and passionate - they could be found spread around every corner of his life.

A walk in the park where Eddy ranted about the way their conductor for this week made him perceive Brahms differently, getting nerdier by the minute, and Brett indulged, hummed in all the appropriate places before adding his own two cents -  _ interested and interesting _ .

An afternoon at Brett’s place with too many people asking too many questions, and Brett somehow knew when he needed to be left alone, shooing everyone away and letting Eddy’s shoulder relax, tension seeping as it was just the two of them again, with enough space to let his mind expand, enough silence to think -  _ attentive. _

A smile at the right moment during a concert when Eddy messed up a note, reassuring and free of judgment, a cup of coffee from the vending machine inserted between his fingers during a late rehearsal break -  _ gentle. _

A quirk of the mouth, upping Eddy on every one of his worst jokes, unleashing puns and ridiculous faces if it had the slightest chance of making anyone laugh -  _ funny. _

A complete disregard for the disapproving look of others when he was fooling around in public, free of being himself, sure of who he was without needing external confirmation -  _ confident. _

A - _ don’t panic, it was good -  _ when Eddy tried out a new piece, worked on some difficult passage, messed up as dread and insecurity pooled in his stomach and Brett just stood here and listened, advice at the tip of his tongue, soothing words -  _ encouraging.  _

He could have gone on and on, not believing how many details forming the picture of Brett had accumulated since the first day he had sat beside him, but it was simple in the end.

Brett liked the rigor of practice, romantic composers, old-fashioned interpretations and fast passages, good food, parties, and people. He laughed at everything and smiled to everyone, energized and so full of life he was bursting with it, sharing without realizing how many people were pulled in his good moods, how he barely had to insist before Eddy found himself dragged in new adventures in the streets of London, wet sidewalks and streetlights reflections splashing under their feet.

*

They sat next to the fountains of the Barbican, facing the body of water, sandwiches from that place they had gone to for Eddy’s first day in hand, the sun warming their back despite the leaves of a tree blocking some of its rays and the stone was hot under Eddy’s palm.

Brett had traded his rectangular glasses for very round black shades - maybe to feel closer to the insects buzzing in his ears.

“You look like a fly. A tiny one.”

“Shut up,” Brett laughed. “My sunglasses are cool.”

He leaned back to get more sun on his face, humming Navarra under his breath - so soft it almost drowned in the noise of the water cascading, more chirping birds to spring. Eddy’s fingers twitched with the need to play. 

A black dot on the orange of the bricks attracted his attention, running around in his periphery. Uneasiness crawled in his chest, suspicions making him squint at the small thing.

“Fuck!! Fuck! Brett! Help!!”

His friend jumped, scrambling up with panic painted over his face.

“What?! What’s happening?”

“A cockroach!! There’s a fucking cockroach right here!!” he shrieked, scurrying beside the tiny form of his desk partner, feet almost slipping in the water in his haste to put as much distance as possible between him and the scary little bugger.

Hysteria spread, agitation going from Eddy’s shaking limbs to Brett, and before long, they were both screaming and throwing any items under their hands, impervious to the worried glances of bystanders.

“Get rid of it! Get rid of it!”

“Stop yelling!”

“You’re yelling too!”

“That’s your fault!”

*

It had only taken some more screeching and agitation before Brett remembered the tissue in his pocket and went away with the cockroach, allowing Eddy to breathe again.

“I had no idea you were afraid of cockroaches too,” he teased as they gathered their cases, jackets, and sandwich wraps, getting ready to head back to the music hall.

“I am not. But you panicked and it made me panic,” Brett shot back.

“Good to know you’re unreliable in times of crisis.”

“Hey, I did end up getting rid of it.”

“True. My savior. Should I kiss the floor on which you walk?”

“Don’t, it’s disgusting.”

“Less than a cockroach.”

Brett burst out laughing as Eddy pushed the door open and gestured for him to pass, snorting a  _ Ladies first  _ complete with wiggly eyebrows. His hair brushed Eddy’s chin as he passed, and hit him again, how  _ tiny  _ Brett was.

It was the thing, too; they spent most of their time together sitting - either in rehearsal or eating - and Brett’s energy took so much place, his smile and laughter vibrant, large enough to make you forget his small frame. But then there were those times Eddy stood up beside him and noticed he was privy to the top of his head where hairs defied gravity in the mornings. When he realized Brett had to look up when he glanced at Eddy. When Brett wanted to whisper a dirty joke in his ear and had to tiptoe to even reach him. 

It made him want to ruffle his hair or bear hug him. Just do something with the way this realization always moved something inside of him, made his fingers twitch.

But he hadn’t.

Introversion had this pull over his hands, fighting with his need to touch, twisting him and leaving him in this weird place where he either refused to even let his skin brush over an acquaintance or would completely wrap himself around the people that had been judged close enough. There was no in between.

Crossing the line was the hard part.

He could feel his hand moving already, the skin of his chin tickled by Brett’s hair, wanting to maybe test if they were as soft as they seemed. His stomach churned as shyness crept back -  _ maybe he shouldn’t  _ \- pulling him back. But then Brett looked up, so close to him he had to gaze above the frame of his glasses to have eye contact with Eddy. He was just  _ so small,  _ warmth exuding from him in waves. Before he knew what he was doing, his palm was moving, patting the mop of black hair, and he watched with horror as Brett’s eyebrows shot up in confusion.

“I’m-” he tried to start apologizing, not yet knowing how he would get out of that one.

A giggle saved him from coming up with an explanation. 

“Okay,” Brett shrugged with a smile, extending his fingers to give a quick pat to Eddy’s head, as if Eddy wasn’t weird and it was a normal thing to do.

Acceptance bubbled inside of him, his smile climbing as he followed Brett to rehearsal, fingers still twitching.

His line was crossed.

*

From then on, he allowed himself to be as touchy as he wanted, straying hands and shoulder pats, hair ruffling and hip nudges.

It felt good to be able to let out his touchiness, the comfort of a shoulder against his palm, of a body close to his, of moving Brett around in the small confines of his apartment, when they tried to pass by each other between the green couch and the low table. 

Being himself was liberating, he never thought he could have that in London - Belle liked to pinch his cheeks and flick him but wasn’t very much into full body touch, and he had had so many tickle fights with Jordon that his friend was instantly on his guards whenever Eddy’s hands came near him. It settled him in his skin to be able to be like this around Brett, free to show his affection and gratefulness for his new friend’s presence in his life through gestures. 

The downside was that Brett had found out about his ticklishness, lips twitching as he gave discreet nudge to Eddy’s ribs, holding back his cackles like the gremlin he was while Eddy was trying not to squeak too loud in the middle of rehearsal.

None of this had escaped the eyes of the other members of the orchestra, teases and snorts about how close they were freely flowing, Brett rolling his eyes at each of them. Sprouts of confidence from the seeds of this new friendship allowed Eddy to tease back, to go along with it and throw an arm around Brett’s shoulder and make kissy faces, grounded by his presence, invincible by his side. With him there, the orchestra felt like a friendly place, full of fun accents and fond eyerolls at the antics of the two interns, this big ensemble producing one sound, carrying each other through music.

“I saw you two getting lunch on Monday when I was passing through town,” Erica sat facing the back of the chair, having decided that the superior way of spending her break was clearly to pick on the two interns rather than getting coffee or having meaningful conversations with adults her age. “Just how much time do you guys actually spend together?”

“We need mutual support to survive the abuse of meddling but brilliant concertmasters,” Brett shot back without answering the question - he had a way of doing that which Eddy dearly wanted to learn.

“No but seriously, how don’t you get sick of each other? You’re literally sitting beside each other all day, and then still somehow want to keep seeing each other’s face on your lunch breaks and days off? Is there even a single thing you don’t like about each other?”

“Yeah, Eddy smells.”

“Do I? Oh, sorry mate,” he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a blush creep on his skin, taking a deep breath to try and sniff himself.

Well fuck. Brett was stuck beside him all day supporting his smell and had never told him? Maybe he should invest in a better deodorant or perfume, this must have sucked for his deskie.

“No,” Brett chuckled. “No you don’t, I’m messing with you.”

“Why would you say that?” Eddy whined, voice climbing higher. “I thought- you hurt my feelings, bro.”

Brett patted him on the back, promises of free bubble teas and playing the second violin part on their duets assuaging Eddy enough to start being embarrassed at the way Erica was almost falling from her chair laughing.

He was playing when it hit him that Brett’s misdirection had worked its magic once again - he had never answered Erica’s question. 

Another realization spread its wings inside his ribcage as he jotted down an upbow on the music score with the pen Brett had started chewing - which was disgusting but a bit endearing.

There wasn’t a thing he didn’t like about Brett.

*

“So who’s the one with connections now, huh?” Eddy tutted with a high pitched voice in his best imitation of his mother, hand resting on a cocked hip. “You have to work hard if you want to get far in life, Brett Yang, not flirt with your seventy years old boss.”

Brett swatted the admonishing finger Eddy was pushing in his face with a laugh.

“You’ve got to stop saying disturbing shit like that, bro. Nice voice, by the way, let’s put a wig on you and you’ll be the perfect woman.”

“At least as charming as Zimmerman, I hope,” Eddy played along.

“If not more,” Brett wiggled his eyebrows and they exchanged a cackle before heading outside of the music hall. 

“What did Stenhouse even want with you?”

“I’m… not completely sure?” his confused expression ripped another chuckle from Eddy. “He was like, half complimenting me, half scolding me because apparently Zimmerman took a liking to me and so he wanted me to tell her not to mess with his schedule.”

“Can’t he tell her himself?”

“I don’t know, dude. Those two are weird.”

“Yeah, I wonder what their deal is.”

“I would rather not know to be honest,” a snort escaped him as he raised his eyes toward Eddy, pointing at the bag thrown over his shoulder. “I brought some leftover food from home by the way, took enough for two, so if you’re game we can just sit in the park and eat that. It’s just pasta with shrimp and lemon but I thought it was good.”

“It’s fine, I can go buy my own-”

“C’mon, I told you I made enough for two, it would be stupid for you to go buy something when I literally have food for you in my bag.”

“You made it?”

“Yeah, I just told you,” Brett replied with a laugh that brushed on shy. “Don’t you want to try it?”

There was no way he could say no to this.

“Oooh, bringing me homemade lunch, Bretty, we’ll put the wig on you,” he teased, warmth spreading from his chest to tickle his fingertips.

“Nah, it would definitely suit you more, you’ve got, like, more feminine features.”

“I’m gonna choose to take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” Brett smiled back with the edge of a flirt in his voice, turning the charm back on just enough for Eddy to roll his eyes.

“Well, I’m not sure my girlfriend will enjoy her boyfriend turned into a woman, I’ll keep the suggestion in mind though.”

“Girlfriend, yes,” Brett cleared his throat, licking his lower lip before taking a short inhale. The silence only hung in the air for half a second. “You know, I discovered writing inside my violin, I wonder if I could find the maker…”

Incessant babble filled their space. About Brett’s violin, his little brother, his friends and the classes he hated most in uni - his word vomit seemed nervous, spurred by a restless energy that left Eddy uneasy, as if the mindless talk was driving an edge between them.

Quiet only managed to settle over them once they were sat on the grass, a Tupperware and two forks between them, the sharp smell of lemon supplanting the heady scent of flowers. 

It was a soft humming, barely louder than the giggles of two children playing a few meters away, deep and in tune. The slow stretch of the second movement from the Tchaikovsky violin concerto wrapped around him, acidity on his tongue and grass between his fingers.

Brett was singing under his breath, gaze lost somewhere in the sky, and something in Eddy’s chest squeezed.

*

There was a frazzled insistence to Toni’s recurring phone calls, one when he woke up, still groggy with sleep, another during morning break, before she went to bed, and a last one when Eddy snuggled under the cover while she was getting up in Brisbane. He could feel the edge to her voice, the disapproving humming when he spoke of Brett. 

She never said anything but he felt obligated to comfort her, to reassure that nothing was going on, that they would be together again in a few months.

_ “I’m calling you too much,” _ she sighed. _ “Sorry, I must really feel like your mom, checking up on you all the time.” _

“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry, I like it when you call me,” he tried to keep his tone cheerful.

Almost every call lately had ended on a gloomy note, and he desperately wanted to have fun talking to her, but the mention of Brett managed to have every conversation spiral down and leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. The closer he got to Brett, the less of him he spoke to Toni, not out of any desire to be secretive, but in the hopes of keeping their discussions on a nice tune.

She knew, of course. Every time he told her had tested a new restaurant  _ with a colleague  _ he could hear her sigh from the other side of the line and uneasiness started to creep on them.

_ “Still, I shouldn’t be on your back so much, _ ” she admonished herself _. “I want you to have fun in London, but I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry.” _

“Don’t apologize,” Eddy rushed, hating how defeated she sounded. “Please, I know you’re jealous, and that’s understandable. We’re far away from each other and I keep talking of other people, but I’m not gonna cheat on you alright. I’ll never do that, you have to believe me, Toni.”

_ “I do. I just- I don’t like him.” _

“Brett? Why? He hasn’t done anything to you,” he frowned, eyes stuck on the ceiling of his room, keeping his voice low so as to not wake Belle up.

_ “Apart from stealing all your time? Damn it, Eddy, you guys even spend your days off together, he’s clearly not just  _ the other intern _. Does he even know the man he’s flirting with has a girlfriend?” _

The more she spoke, the deeper the frown settled on his face, restless fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

“He does know I’m dating you and strangely enough, that hasn’t stopped him from hanging out with me. You’re right, by the way, he’s not just  _ the other intern _ , he’s a friend now, and a cool one that hasn’t done anything but be nice to me,” he realized how harsh his tone had come out and took a deep breath. She was hurt and probably tired from her own internship, no need to antagonize her further. “Look, I’m sorry, I know how it looks, but Brett’s a great guy, and I’m sure you two woud get along if you met each other. I know it sucks that I’m spending more time with him than with you, I wish I could be with you too... Just think about everything we have planned to do together once I’m back in Australia, hey? Maybe we could organize that trip to Tokyo after graduation!”

“Mmh.”

“You don’t have to be jealous, whatever happens I’m faithful to you, alright?”

The silence that followed weighed heavier than all the hidden reproches, he could barely hear her breath through the receiver. 

_ “Remember in the beginning, when you told me that if I wanted you would take your distance with him? Would you still do that now?” _

Unfair. 

Why was she so unfair?

His stomach twisted uncomfortably, hand tightening over the fabric of his shirt.

It was his turn to stay silent, tongue stuck at the bottom of his mouth.

“I…”

Brett wasn’t just a nice deskie. He was the guy looking over his violin when they played Navarra and took him on adventures in the small hours of the night, the guy who made him burst out laughing with a single look and whose music made him envious and in awe. He was his friend and the best thing London had had to offer until now.

_ “Oh shit, I’m sorry Eddy. Forget it, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. I know London was supposed to be a happy time for you and I don’t- I don’t want you to be lonely or sad, I just- I miss you and I… You don’t have to- I’m sorry, okay. Nevermind. I need to go to rehearsal anyway, good night, talk to you later.” _

The dial tone rang in his ear before he managed to slip a single word, heart still squeezing in his chest.

Jealousy was a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's this cruelly underrated work (it took me forever to find it again) by [courante](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/courante/pseuds/courante) that I absolutely adore.
> 
> [he was a sudden storm in winter](http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/27818329) paints the best pictures. The writing is just plain delightful, and my own won't do it any justice, so just take this extract from the first paragraph.
> 
> "it was 1989 and everything was going up, the stocks and the heat and the imminent invisible tidal wave hovering over your head. yes, there was a moment like that, then; back to the neon lights."
> 
> Just one sentence, and already the beginning of an image forms in your mind, all those years spent studying literature almost makes me want to run a full analysis on this text with how rich in stylistic devices it is, the images blooming in your mind through each new paragraph are both vivid and blurry - it's breathtaking.
> 
> On an unrelated note, I'm breaking all that talk about beautiful writing to share with you my best friend's latest creation on my Google Doc xD:
> 
> (The beginning of the channel, the enthusiasm, the bliss, the entertainment for a new age. It was all they wanted, glee and massacres. Thoses potatoes were still whole, how could that be ! Eddy took his toy-hammer and smashed the poor root under the frightened sight of his best *wink* friend*wink*. The not rich potatoes were stronger than the hammer and they resisted, ready to do a potato revolution and seize the world ! They then decided to bath in their jacuzzi without bubble and without the tub… aka a shower !)


	6. Chapter 5: The grey waters of the Thames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was this thing about Brett Yang that might become Eddy’s all time favorite amongst his qualities.
> 
> When he said he would do something, he did it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once I'm quite happy with my sketch :D
> 
> This chapter is the beginning of many things for them, I hope you enjoy this, despite some heartache.
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudo and nice comments :D Really makes my day every time!
> 
> Thank you Ria for the beta reading :D
> 
> **TW: Mentions of passed family members**

# Chapter 5: The grey water of the Thames

It was staring at the grey water of the Thames, drenched by rain and not caring, that the first seeds of the idea started to take root in their mind.

*

“It’s Christopher Nolan, we have to see it!” Jordon pushed Eddy’s shoulder toward the group of youth chatting in front of the movie theater.

“Yes, but why did we agree to go with Brett’s friends already?”

Feet digging in the floor, knuckles white around his umbrella, he was making sure to show his reluctance to join in the group of almost strangers whose voices carried toward him despite the rain.

“Because he asked and you said yes, like the very smart person you are, now live with the consequences of your actions,” his friend enunciated, taking too much mirth in Eddy’s misery.

“I had no idea there would be this many people, I only thought it would be the three of us. And with Brett being late it’s just gonna be an awkward fest, they’re his friends, not ours, what are we even gonna talk about?”

“Dude, we are gonna see a movie, there will be no forced interactions, everyone will be focused on the film. Now stop whining, we’re gonna miss the ads. It’s the best part.”

Protest pearled at his lips, heart hammering, ready to find an escape, pretend illness and watch it on his own later on, but then one of the guys turned toward them and waved. This one friend of Brett was easy to remember, he was from Australia too, Eddy had even heard of him before, winning competitions left and right. 

“Oh, Jordon, Eddy! Hi guys, over here!” Ray shouted with a grin.

They had been spotted, it was too late to backtrack now, awkward dialogues and painful silences would have to be danced with. Thank God Jordon was there, he would have never survived on his own in the middle of a group of almost strangers - he had never managed to be completely at ease around Brett’s friends, too shy to fit in.

“We thought you would be late too,” Ray teased once they were within talking distance. “Let’s get an obscene amount of popcorn and save a seat for Brett!”

“Will he even get here at all?” a girl with blond hair wondered.

Eddy had never managed to catch her name before, but he remembered she was a contrabassist - somehow, this information always seemed more important.

“Of course he will!” Ray guffawed and gave Eddy a slap on the back for whatever reason. “He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to get all cozy in a dark room with-”

“What Ray means is that Brett’s been waiting for Interstellar to screen like a kid before Christmas, he wouldn’t miss this,” another girl interrupted, somehow talking to Eddy as if he had been the one asking the question.

Which he very much hadn’t, mouth resolutely close and voice stuck somewhere at the back of his throat while those people he could barely remember the name of talked all over him.

Anxiety was simmering under the surface, biting at his lungs, threatening to invade.

That film better be worth it.

*

The film was worth everything.

Longing had started wrapping around his lungs halfway through, and he hadn’t been able to pinpoint why, but it shook something inside of him.

“Eddy?” Brett’s whisper was very close to his ear.

Late as he had been, he had still managed to weasel his way to the seat they had kept for him on Eddy’s right barely a few minutes after the ads had stopped, apologizing in hushed tones under the teasing remarks of his friends.

A sniffle escaped Eddy.

“Are you crying?” Brett leaned over the separation between their seats to try and get a better look at him, Eddy could hear the flutter of a tease in his voice.

The dampness gathering at his eyes had shifted in fat tears rolling down his cheeks without interruptions since the moment father and daughter had been reunited, throat tight as he realized just _why-_

“No,” his voice broke, uselessly trying to dry his face, turning away from Brett’s crinkling gaze.

“I think you are,” his friend leaned further in his space, giggles past his lips as he craned his neck to get another look at Eddy’s face. “So you’re the type that cries at movies, I should have known, hey.”

There was a fondness to his voice, a softness Eddy didn’t usually associate with Brett. The thing that stayed broken in him ached and hurt with the unexpected gentleness.

“Don’t worry,” Brett misinterpreted his silence. “I teared up too, hey. It was a pretty emotional ending. Look.” 

With the tip of his fingers, he dabbed at the corner of his own eyes and whipped the wetness on Eddy’s hand with a cheeky smile, but Eddy couldn’t laugh, couldn’t speak, choking up on emotions, chest too small.

The credits were rolling by now, chatter filling the cinema and as the lights came back he spied on Brett’s eyes widening; he knew there was no way to hide the state he was in.

“Holy- Dude, are you okay?” his hand was fluttering around Eddy’s shoulder, frowning and maybe this was a hint of panic in his demeanor. “Are you hurt? Is something wrong?”

“No. Yeah, I’m fine, I-” he rasped out. “Can we- Can we get out?”

Brett scrambled up immediately, freeing the passage toward the alley, frantic as he gathered his jacket and their discarded empty bottles and snacks wastes.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Let’s go. Let’s take a walk.”

They made it to the exit before anyone noticed they had disappeared, the others wrapped up in animated discussions about the movie; Eddy was in no state to interact with anyone right now. He had just exchanged a glance with Jordon who had nodded at him and distracted the attention of the rest of the group while Brett and he made their escape.

“Oh shit, it’s still raining,” Brett mumbled as they stepped outside, frowning at the sky as if he somehow could order it to stop its weeping.

“Fuck, I forgot my umbrella on my seat.”

“I can go back and get it if you want?”

From behind them, noise went crescendo as spectators started milling around, hanging outside the theater after the film, an irrational fear of that mass of people surrounding him and drowning him when he could barely breathe on his own seized him and he ignored the rain, started walking.

“No, it’s okay, let’s just- I’ll text Jordon and ask him- I’ll get it back later.”

Brett fell in step beside him, protecting his hair and glasses from the water with the hood of his jacket, shooting him a worried glance.

“D’you want me to drive you back?”

“I think I’d rather walk.”

Memories sprung of wandering around Brisbane in the middle of the night when insomnia hit and the only remedy to soothe the chaos of his thoughts was an ache in his legs, stars above his head, the orange glow of street lights at the corner of his eyes, and fresh air in his lungs.

“Should I leave you alone?”

“No,” the words were out of his mouth before he processed them, almost harsh in their hurry to reach Brett before he might leave.

He would have been ashamed at his neediness, but his friend just shrugged.

“Alright then.”

*

Not another word had been shared; the pitter-patter of the rain, footsteps echoing, cars passing by and distant conversations calmed him, the weather was nice despite the damp air and his face was only wet from the water falling from above now, breath steady as the Thames sloshed and whooshed, as grey as the sky. The metal of the railing was cold under his finger - it made him think of Sibelius, somehow.

A tapping sound added itself to the notes threading the symphony of a rainy day outside. Brett was typing on his phone, a Facebook conversation open. Shame crept when he realized the man hadn’t even had the opportunity to exchange a single word with his friends, rushing out of the theater like a thief without any explanation, afternoon probably ruined now. 

“Sorry man,” he finally breathed, nails digging in the palm of his hand. “I can be an emotional mess sometimes. I try not to but-”

“Hey, bro. It’s okay.” he pocketed his phone. “I don’t mind, take your time.”

“No, I- you ditched your friends because of me, we’re out in the rain, you’re gonna catch a cold, and I-”

“Dude,” Brett stepped in front of him, forcing them to a stop, staring straight into his eyes, and Eddy had nowhere to hide, squirming and weak against this gaze. “Stop apologizing, it’s okay. I’d rather be with you anyway, you don’t have to feel guilty. If you want to talk, I’m here but if you just want to keep walking in silence, we can do that. I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

All of his edges were softened, voice lowered, understanding in his eyes and the energy Brett Yang was usually bursting with seemed contained, he wasn’t pushing, he wasn’t pulling, he was just there, ready to be dragged in Eddy’s rhythm instead of the opposite, for once.

“It’s funny,” Eddy cleared his throat. “You never struck me as the patient type.”

“I am. I can be very, very patient. Practice is nothing but an exercise in patience, after all.”

_True_ , he wanted to say, but his voice was stuck, so he just nodded.

They ended up leaning against the railing, the green paint was coming off under Eddy’s nails, revealing a metallic glint as they watched the rain and boats that passed by disturbing the natural rhythm of the Thames. They were so drenched by now, both of them would probably be sick in a few days.

Interstellar kept replaying in his head - the lost time and the missing.

“The movie was really good,” he whispered, gaze lost somewhere in the water.

Brett hummed in agreement. “I knew it would be good, but not that good, might be my favorite film so far.” 

“He just- that man, even from the other side of the universe, he believed in his daughter so freaking much and I-” he inhaled, feeling like maybe sharing. “I miss my dad.”

“Where’s he?” his friend’s voice was so soft the agitation of the river hitting the bank almost covered it.

“He’s- last year-” he swallowed, the lump in his throat refusing to move, insides rattling. “I never got the chance to tell him I got accepted for the LSO. I’m sure- he would have been so proud-” he hated the way his voice quivered, the way he was always fucking unable to talk about it without feeling like a gust of wind away from shattering. “I miss my dad.”

“Oh. Dude, bro, Eddy. I…” Brett inhaled sharply.

Eddy’s stare was still focused on the water, unable to meet his friend’s eyes, but at the corner of his vision, Brett’s knuckles were white around the railing. Then there was movement, a weight against his side.

He glanced down, Brett had gotten just close enough to lean against him, silent support, frowning, mouth opening and closing - looking for words he wouldn’t find, probably.

“You don’t- don’t feel like you have to say anything. I know there’s no right way to react to that. I’m- I’m getting over it, I just- I needed to breathe away from how empty my house feels and- London seemed like the perfect opportunity to… To heal, I guess? Away from everything, living my dream, in a way. I try not to think about it too much, I do my best to be as happy as I can, to consider myself lucky to even be here, but sometimes it’s- It has a way of catching me unaware.”

Brett looked stricken, still hadn’t uttered a single word.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have unloaded this onto you, that’s not fair. Sorry.”

“No, no, no. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Brett’s words tumbled, mouth shook in action once again. “What have I just told you about apologizing, hey? I’m- you’ve probably heard it tons of times but I’m so sorry for you. I- Fuck, I’m just crap at consoling people. I literally don’t know any other way of making people feel better than give them bubble tea or play music. Do you want bubble tea?”

It ripped a chuckle from Eddy.

“No, not really.”

“Okay.”

They stood there for a little while more, the rain turned into a light drizzle, and if Eddy leaned back a little bit more into Brett, it might be because he wanted to feel his support just a bit better. His warmth was starting to seep into his arm despite the layers of clothing, stark against the cold of his damp clothes.

“The music was pretty,” Brett blurted.

“Of what? Interstellar?”

“Mhmh.”

“It was. Very nice.”

“Do you want to play it?”

“Is that your way of trying to comfort me because the bubble tea attempt failed?” Eddy teased, feeling himself settle into his body again.

“Yeah, if you refuse that, I’ll have exhausted all of my options.”

Laughter shook him, vibrating in his ribcage, expanding from his lung, dislodging the lump in his throat on his way to his lips. His skin stopped feeling like it was stretched too thin and he could breath more easily.

“Out of options already? I thought you had more imagination than that.”

“What about you, hey. I haven’t had my daily joke yet. Are you running out of inspiration?”

“It’s because today’s joke was too good, you wouldn’t have been able to Handel it.”

“Hey, there you go,” Brett smiled softly and Eddy suddenly very much wanted to make music with him.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Let’s go play the music from Interstellar, we won’t find the scores but I can use my perfect pitch.”

“You’re showing off.”

Eddy thought back to Brett’s Paganini, the way his fingers had danced, the smirk on his face, the smugness in his eyes.

“Maybe, are you impressed?”

With a chuckle, Brett shook his head.

“A bit,” he smiled, clearly on the same mind track as Eddy. “But I’m gonna be really disappointed if it doesn’t sound good.”

“And if I perfectly rewrite it for two violins? Do I get free bubble tea?”

“Maybe we could do a cover then, like that video you showed me yesterday, post it on Youtube to show how good your transcription skills are.”

“We’re definitely better on the violin than that guy.”

“What is it with this burst of confidence?” Brett raised his eyebrows. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added with a very specific smile - the charming one, the flirty one, the one maybe he shouldn’t tell Toni about.

“Am I wrong, though?”

“Nah you’re right. We’re better. And Interstellar is popular. Maybe we would have billions of views, like Gangnam Style, become famous,” Brett wiggled his eyebrows.

“Do you even know how to film a cover?”

“Can’t be that hard.” Brett shrugged.

*

It was.

*

There was this thing about Brett Yang that might become Eddy’s all time favorite amongst his qualities.

When he said he would do something, he did it.

So, he had said _Let’s do a cover_ , and Eddy had laughed, joked around, not really expecting them to go through, but then Brett picked up his violin, drove him home and instead of just dropping him off like usually would, he parked and got out of the car.

“Your sister’s got recording material, doesn’t she?” he had just answered to Eddy's questioning look.

Brett had said _Let’s do a cover,_ and he had asked Eddy to rewrite the entire score for two violins. Eddy had done it.

Brett had said _Let’s do a cover,_ and he had spent hours fumbling with editing softwares, laughing at failed attempts then proudly showing the first results.

Brett had said _Let’s do a cover,_ and they had sat on his tiny green couch until two in the morning trying to find a name for their channel.

Brett had said _Let’s do a cover,_ and they had done it and laughed so much every step of the way, it was almost worth the terrible cold they had both been suffering after their afternoon under the rain.

*

Their first video as TwoSet Violin got a grand total of eight likes after a full week.

Brett said _Let’s do another one._

*

Ballet had been the last place Eddy expected to have inspiration for a different kind of video.

Brett had been right - he regretted even looking forward to it. Sure the first time had been fun, Tchaikovsky was always epic, by stretching his neck he could see half of the bodies of the dancer and the whole atmosphere was exhilarating.

But today was the third time in two days that he played Swan Lake, it was past nine, the weight of the day dragged down every one of his movements, and at this point he was just going through the motions, sprawled over his chair, not even caring about his terrible posture and trying to distract himself by making faces at Brett and watch him try to repress his laugh.

A nudge at his shoe made him look up and follow the direction Brett pointed to with his chin, stifling a chuckle. A man in a fancy suit on the second row had apparently given up before the end of the first act, head laid back and mouth open as he slept soundly, unaware of the more or less discreet nudges a woman in a pink dress was giving him.

From then on, the new game was to try and find the most bored members of the audience, those who clearly had been dragged here, or those who just wanted an opportunity of getting in a nice outfit and pretend to be fancy by going to a ballet.

“Man,” Brett sighed during recess, forcing a bottle of water into Eddy’s hand, “have you seen the average age of the audience? It’s crazy.”

“I know, right?” he rubbed his eyes with aching fingers “If you don’t count the dancers, we’re by far the youngest of the whole room.”

“This won’t help with the cliche that classical music is only for old people.”

“Yeah. I hate the stiff atmosphere associated with classical music, I mean, people should see us when we mess around on the violin, they would definitely change their mind. You don’t have to be stuck up to enjoy it, look at us! We’re two regular guys who go out, play video games and swear, definitely not all proper and classy, but this doesn’t stop us from loving it. Fun and classical music can co-exist!”

Eddy’s tone had climbed, heat turned up in his vehemence, and before long, he was gesturing and huffing. Every cliche or tentative to put people in a box had a tendency to piss him off, but people belittling classical music had to be the worst of all.

“Wow, you feel super strongly about this,” Brett raised his eyebrow, taking a swing from his water bottle and encouraging Eddy to do the same.

“I know, I just- it sucked being the only kid into classical music when I was in school, and I- I mean, it would be brilliant if there was a way to make the world understand it’s just music, and it’s cool music, music for young people too.”

“Don’t worry man, I get it. When I was in uni I would drive like a madman on roundabouts, windows open, blasting the Tchaikovsky violin concerto at full volume. It’s a wonder I never got arrested.”

His lungs worked furiously as he choked on his water, coughing and laughing around the liquid in his mouth.

“Dude! I would have- I would have given everything to see the look on people’s face- Damn it must have been hilarious!”

“Let’s do it next time I give you a ride, show some young people the fun of classical music.”

“I’m- huh, I’m pretty sure there’s a safer way to do this,” Eddy snorted, hitting his own chest to get rid of the last remnant of his cough.

“Coward,” Brett snorted, fondness underlining his tone.

*

His bow was moving on its own over the strings, arms movement on automatic through the last act of Swan Lake, words and thought free to dance, scatter and regroup in his mind, change shape every few seconds; a mellow dough his brain kept molding until it took the form it liked.

The answer was so obvious he couldn’t believe the idea hadn’t struck earlier. 

“Brett,” he called under his breath, nudging him with his feet.

Life came back in his deskie’s eyes that had started to glaze over from tiredness and boredom.

“Huh?” he whispered back.

“The channel.”

“What?” Brett frowned, and Eddy was frustrated he had to explain, to give context when it was so _obvious._

“To make classical music more relevant. Let’s use the channel. TwoSet. Let’s show them - everyone, how fun it is.”

He could see it, the way his excitement found an echo in Brett, the way he lit up and a grin spread on his lips.

“Let’s do it,” he said.

And since Brett had said it, Eddy had no doubt. They would do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of Christopher Nolan, I can’t skip over this brilliant breddy Inception fanfiction, [Let Depart All That Keeps you In Its Cage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867504), by [jumpstarts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpstarts/pseuds/jumpstarts).
> 
> It's very well written, perfectly set in the Inception universe and heartwrenching, I absolutely loved it, go give it a read :D


	7. Chapter 6: Status quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe in hindsight, he should have realized; the way Brett was barely answering, giving just enough to keep him talking, the way he stared at his arms before avoiding Eddy’s eyes altogether, the way his hands wouldn't stop moving. 
> 
> Brett was just staring at him now, breath a little short, hand tight around the material of his hoodie. Lights coming from the TV sharpened their features, casting an eerie glow around the room, the only music their mixed respirations to the soundtrack of a few cars passing by. Foreboding wrapped around Eddy’s lungs, the tip of tongue already feeling it - the danger in the air, the catastrophe about to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter I've been wanting to write this fic for ;) 
> 
> Thank you Ria for the beta reading and thank you so much for every person who took the time to leave a comment or a kudo <3
> 
> Also, I was wondering about the rating, are non-explicit sexual fantasies worth putting the rating to M? Or is it fine at T? I'm not sure.

#  Chapter 6: Status quo

“How was it? Did you like it?”

_ “I think I liked your covers better. You’re so awkward in front of the camera in this one,”  _ she giggled.  _ “Most of the time you’re not even talking just… Standing there and making weird faces. I still left a like because I’m a nice girlfriend.” _

“I’m shy, Toni!” he whined, rolling over his mattress. “It’s nerve-wracking to be in front of the camera like that, I don’t know how Brett does it, thank God he takes over whenever I get too awkward.”

_ “Well, you’ll have to learn to do this on your own, because when you come back to Brisbane, either you’ll have to stop this TwoSet thing, or find a way to make it work long distance.” _

She wasn’t being mean, he had always loved that about her; how rational she was - apart from that whole jealousy thing, that was entirely new and unexpected - how she made him consider his priorities and forbade him from shying away from responsibilities. It didn’t stop her words from hurting a bit.

Suddenly, the three months he still had to spend in London seemed too short, the date of his departure almost looming over his head.  _ I’ve already exhausted half of my time here _ , he realized, almost feeling the time slip between his fingers. 

“We’ll make it work. I know we will.”

_ “ _ We _ , huh.” _

Dread pooled as he could feel where this was going, they had been able to go three sentences mentioning Brett before it turned sour.

“Maybe you could film with me, hey. We could do anime covers together, that would be fun!”

_ “I’m sure it will,”  _ she answered but Eddy could tell her heart wasn’t into it anymore.

Then the three months separating him from Toni seemed to keep stretching, everything would be so much better between them when he would come back, he sighed. They would probably move in together and she would have no more reason to be jealous when he would spend everyday with her, and Brett would be the one on the other side of the phone.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he hummed.

_ “Me too, you have no idea.” _

_ * _

“Brett, bro... Have you read the description you made for the video?” Eddy chuckled, staring at the mistakes littering their text through the computer on his lap.

“No, but I’m hungry, is there anything to eat here?” Brett’s voice came from the kitchen.

Rolling his eyes, he got up from the piano stool and made his way to where his friend had his head buried inside the fridge.

Since they had to borrow Belle’s recording material everytime they wanted to make a video, they had taken to hanging out more at his sister’s flat, and Belle had very quickly adopted him through their mutual bullying of Eddy.

“I don’t know, I never cook here, it’s Belle’s stuff, I wouldn’t touch if I were you. We could go out or order in?”

“Is that how you survive? Go out or order in?” Brett got his head out of the fridge just long enough to give him a judgmental eyebrow.

“Well, I- yes. I never had the time to be interested in cooking, if I have free time I’ll practice, I guess? Or read and relax, or play video games. Not cook.”

“Dude... You know that’s kind of an essential life skill, right?”

“I guess I’ll just have to live with someone who knows how to cook then,” Eddy shrugged, not really seeing an issue here.

“You’re a big baby,” Brett snorted but closed the fridge, still empty handed. “Alright, let’s get out then, I wouldn’t want to be killed by your sister because I ate something I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Wise decision.”

“I think by the time you leave London, we’ll have gone through all of its restaurants with how much we eat out,” he joked, putting on his shoes and foregoing the jacket.

Golden pools of sun warmed the streets, the first signs of summer welcome over their skin used to Australian heat. He smiled as the nice weather cradled him, blue sky and Brett’s chatter in his ear. 

He could already feel the missing at the back of his tongue, all those moments that in little less than three months would be memories of a far away country.

“It’s already been three months, hey,” he whispered.

“Huh?”

“Since I got here.”

Brett’s head snapped toward him.

“Fuck, already? Dude, it feels like you just got here. When- when are you leaving exactly?”

“My plane’s on the fifteenth of September.”

“Alright,” he mumbled to himself. “Alright,” he repeated, more firmly, staring straight ahead, and there was something in the set of his jaw, in the angle of his eyebrows that spoke of determination.

*

“You know, what we could do,” Brett shoved rice in his mouth, talking and chewing at the same time, as if couldn't decide between eating and speaking to Eddy, “is that I could bring some food over during lunch break, it would actually be a bit more economical, instead of eating out every day, what do you think?”

Guilt churned in his stomach when he realized Brett had probably started spending way more money in restaurants since Eddy had come, probably just because he felt bad leaving him alone to eat.

“You don’t have to decide your meals based on me, you know. I can- I can manage on my own,” warmth crept on his cheek, a blush probably already forming.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brett dismissed his concern with a swipe of the hand. “You have no idea how to make yourself food and you look like you’re gonna cry when left on your own.” 

Why was he surrounding himself with people who had this habit of only speaking the harsh truth? 

“I can always make myself a sandwich,” he replied defensively. “Even I know how to do that.”

“Dude-” Brett chuckled then coughed when he started choking a grain of rice.

As much as Eddy thought it was just retribution for treating him like a helpless child, he still patted him on the back and pushed his own glass of water between Brett’s fingers, since his was empty already. 

“You okay?” he observed him chugging the water.

“Yeah thanks, man.”

“That’s like, the second time you flirt with death because I made you laugh.”

“Told you I never laughed as much before you joined the LSO, even if it’s at your expense,” Brett cleared his throat, leaning back into Eddy’s hand that lingered here for a minute - just to be sure. He wiped the tears at the corner of his eyes and jumped straight back into the discussion - there was no stopping Brett Yang. “So, as I was saying before almost dying, stop being so reluctant to be helped,” he smiled with a shake of the head. “I always have to insist like crazy whenever I want to do the smallest thing for you, I’m not babying you, I swear-”

“You said I was a baby not thirty minutes ago.”

“Alright, fair point,” Brett snorted. “But that’s not what this is about. I just always cook too much anyway, I never really managed to master the single-portion thing, and I thought it would be nice. I wouldn’t offer if it was a bother, so just accept without making a fuss, alright. Unless you’re afraid I’m trying to poison you.”

“Nice one, now if I refuse, it looks like I don’t trust you.”

“Exactly.”

They smiled at each other for a bit, Eddy’s limbs were lax, the Thai place they were at smelled like spices and hot food, smoke, plates clattering and agitation coming from the kitchen while the street was peaceful on the other side of the window; it felt like home somehow, and it shouldn’t. 

Brett’s eyes crinkled, fingers mindlessly playing with the napkin on the table, something passed in his gaze as he snorted with a side smile before looking away.

Did he have something on his face?

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing, just- you’ve got a dimple. It’s cute.”

His entire body flushed.

Nobody ever complimented his face- it wasn’t- it just didn’t happen. His mother nodded approvingly when he was sharply dressed, smoothing his collar with a satisfied hum, and his sister shot a dry “ _ Nice _ ” when he suited up for graduation or prom. He certainly hadn’t been called cute since he had passed fourteen years old and it left him shaky, not knowing what to make of his hands, of his expression, where to look and what to say.

“Thanks.” 

His voice was so small he wasn’t even sure his friend had heard him, but then Brett’s eyes flickered from the window back to his face, obviously trying to contain a smile that left Eddy feel even more embarrassed.

“Sure.”

They left it at that.

*

Eddy had never felt more self conscious about a dimple before. He smiled multiple times, facing the mirror, watching it appear and disappear, thumbing the dip in his cheek - he had never noticed...

“When you’re done admiring yourself, could I have access to my bathroom, please?” 

Belle leaned on the doorway, and Eddy could tell from her smirk and the phone in her hand that in about three minutes, their entire family would have the video of Eddy making a fool of himself in front of the mirror.

“You know what the best part is? I’ve got all your friends on Facebook…” she sing-sang, delight climbing on her face as Eddy could feel dread invade his.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, eyeing her thumb at her screen.

Cackles and shouts resonated in the flat as he tried to dash and lung for the phone while she evaded, never ending taunts and by the time they crashed on the couch, wheezing and laughing, Eddy was still at the losing end.

He felt five and he loved his sister.

*

Then Jordon barged in to call him a narcissist and made fun of him for ten whole minutes after receiving the video.

His sister was the worst bully.

*

“I think you need to let me do the editing,” Eddy snorted, eyeing the screen from behind the couch.

His arms were crossed at the back of it, above Brett’s mop of hair, eyebrows climbing. He knew his deskie’s spelling was disastrous from his texting but who spelled perfectly by message? He had dismissed it until he noticed how he kept forgetting letters in the middle of his words, how he skipped some when reading out loud, mistaking letters for others, struggling to go through a whole paragraph without stumbling. 

Brett threw back his head, watching him from below, blinking, looking even more tiny than usual from that angle.

“Why? Did I- wha- Eddy what are you doing?” he giggled.

Before he had processed what he was doing, he had pinched the tip of his friend’s nose, snorting as Brett went crossed-eyed trying to follow his fingers.

“I don’t know, you looked small.”

“Yeah? Well you look like an idiot.”

“Hey,” Eddy chuckled, going around the couch to crash beside Brett, taking the computer from his lap. “Alright, let me fix that.”

“Fix what?”

“ _ Prctice _ ? Are you sure that’s how it’s written? That’s kind of a key word for a musician.”

“Oh, shit.”

“You really can’t spell, bro,” he teased. “Don’t you think you have some slight dyslexia?”

“Dunno,” Brett shrugged, hands hiding in the large pockets of his shorts, gaze fixed resolutely on his violin case resting on the table. “It’s always been like this,” he cleared his throat and got up, wandering around his small kitchen space. “It doesn’t matter anyway, we’ve got like fifteen people watching us, and they’re all friends or acquaintances, they won’t care. Do you want a coffee? Maybe we should practice after that, we’ve got Malher 5 coming up this week with a new conductor, Zimmerman told me.”

His attempts at changing the subject was painfully unsubtle for once, a different kind of embarrassment clinging to the slope of his shoulder as he refused to meet Eddy’s stare, hands busy with coffee. Maybe there was a story there, lingering shame from struggling at school or mean remarks from schoolmates. Eddy knew he had had his fair share of it.

“You know, I’ve almost always been at the top of my class.”

“I have no doubts, you’re such a nerd, but what exactly am I supposed to do with that information?” Brett’s chuckle came a second too late to be perfectly genuine.

“I also never had any good friends until uni. School sucked. I was just that nerdy asian kid who played violin and never talked to anyone, same when I joined Youth Orchestra. Everyone was just so much older than me, and I was always lonely - people thought it was because I felt superior but I was just too fucking shy. I heard them talk behind my back sometimes. I’m still- I’m still very very very very shy,” he bit his nail, this time being the one refusing to face Brett’s gaze. “If you hadn’t invited me for lunch that first day, or if you hadn’t just been- you, I guess, I would have stayed completely alone for those six months, just meeting with Jordon once a week and hoping my sister isn’t too busy with work. So, you know. Thank you. For being you,” he could feel the wings of vulnerability tickle his insides, flutter in his chest, trying to make him take back his word,  _ why are you sharing this, it doesn’t help, he doesn’t care _ , but he was used to them, had lived with those trapped birds for his whole life, opening his chest to be hurt, sometimes, then starting back again every time, not learning his lesson. “Since you helped me so much, I guess I can at least be a free spell-checker, I’m already your tuner after all, I can take on a second role,” he added with the hint of a tease, finally meeting his friend’s eyes, hoping to lighten the mood. 

But Brett wasn’t laughing.

Brett wasn’t even smiling.

Brett was just watching him.

He blinked, took a slow breath, the beginning of a grin - a genuine one, with crinkles and light in his eyes - fighting its way on his face.

“Thank you, man,” he just said, voice gentle, then turned back to gather the coffee cups.

Nothing else was added, but for the rest of their practice, everything felt padded in velvet, sharpness rounded and colors pastel.

*

There was something in the laughter of Richard Stenhouse when Eddy made a bad joke, in the way he gave a nod with a warm smile when they passed by each other in the Barbican Centre, sometimes stopping to have a chat, words encouraging and eyes empty of judgment, in the way he liked to complain about Zimmerman like his dad used to do about his mom that felt… Familiar. Fatherly. 

It wasn’t outward, didn’t really hit in the face, didn’t remind him of his dad in a painful way, it was just the way he felt at ease around him, for no other reason than the old man’s weirdness and warmth. 

On the other side, Zimmerman was like a proud bird around Brett, complimenting his technique and stopping him after rehearsal more often than not, making no secret that he would be hired by the end of his internship. 

Without their consent, Brett and Eddy found themselves pulled in this weird back and forth that was going on between Zimmerman and Stenhouse, being dragged on the side to give messages, used as a subject of dispute between the two directors, and a result of this, they started to take an unhealthy interest in their relationship. 

“Zimmerman asked me if I had a nice Tuesday, I answered  _ ‘I practiced a lot _ ’ without thinking, and then she pointedly looked at my violin hickey, then at you coming into the music hall, smiled creepily and said  _ ‘Sure, darling’ _ . I hate this place,” Brett whined, plopping his ass on the chair beside Eddy.

“Dude! I ran into Stenhouse on my way to the bathroom and it was the same! Without the creepy smile though.”

“D’you reckon they actually communicate?”

“Who knows? Old people are strange creatures.”

“I resent that,” their principal second violinist joked.

She was the one with the red hair and soft smile, the one who always had a kind word for them in the morning and a congratulation after a performance.

“Don’t worry, Sioban, age is not leaving its trace on you, the only place maturity is showing is in your violin playing.”

“I’m a married woman, Brett.”

“Too bad.”

With a snort, she shook her head and got up to talk to Erica, leaving Eddy to roll his eyes at Brett’s constant flirting with every single member of the orchestra, never minding that he was barely half the age of most.

“Dude, being in a relationship with you would be the worst,” he mused, adding a teasing lilt to his voice to show that he wasn’t serious.

His deskie’s eyebrows climbed so far on his forehead they seemed to want to escape as Brett leaned back in the uncomfortable orchestra chair, mindlessly tightening and loosening his bow.

“Yeah? Why?”

“You flirt with absolutely everybody. I know it’s not serious and it’s fun to watch from the outside but it would be hard to know when you really mean it you know. Like, I can feel your partner would be  _ are you just saying that or…  _ Maybe they could also be jealous, you know. It never happened?”

“I wouldn’t know, hey,” he cleared his throat, fingers never taking a rest, and Eddy was scared the bow would snap. “I’ve never stayed in a relationship long enough for that to happen.”

“Oooh, Bretty, breaking hearts left and right,” Erica teased as she passed by them to go back to the first chair.

Then their conductor stepped in, calling for the end of break, loud voice swallowing Brett’s “It’s not like that.” and nobody but Eddy heard him.

*

“Should we make another one next week?” Brett scrolled through the few comments on their cover, snorting through some of his friends’ ones. “We can try to play that piece Jordon composed for us.”

“Yeah, might as well cram as many videos as we can as long as we’re together, it’s gonna be harder once I’m back in Australia.”

“We’ll find a way, hey,” Brett smiled, and something in his expression shifted in colors Eddy wasn’t used to seeing before settling on his usual determination. “I can visit, my family is still in Brisbane, and your sister’s here in London, we’ll make it work.”

“Bring me some that super good tea you have when you visit, the one with a chicken on the bag.”

“The Teapigs one? Morning Glory?”

“Yeah, and I’ll come with boxes of Tim Tams in exchange. I miss that shit and it’s only been three months since I left Australia.”

“Deal.”

It was starting to be late, night had crept and wrapped itself around them, settled on Brett’s tiny couch, they had morning rehearsal the next day, and maybe Eddy should start thinking about leaving, but he was comfortable and tired. A show had been playing in the background, but they had paused it when they had started talking, more interested in each other than in the story depicted behind the screen. 

There was a bottle of wine on the table in front of them, almost empty now and red had a way to cling to Brett’s lips that left Eddy a bit dizzy, they laughed maybe a bit too loud and shared a bit too much, but Eddy felt so safe, like no judgment could ever hit him from between that small green couch and Brett’s eyes.

“My mom watches Youtube,” Eddy hummed, stretching his legs on the couch, letting a socked foot slide against Brett’s thigh - Brett had waved off his attempt to apologize before he even opened his mouth, so he just let it stay here. “She told me to stop that and focus on Orchestra.  _ Where is the money in that Youtube thing?  _ \- I had her on the phone just the day before yesterday.”

“Will you?”

“Stop TwoSet because my mom told me? Dude no!” Eddy burst out laughing, propping himself back up on one arm to stop from sliding down the couch - if he kept being relaxed like this, in a few minutes he would be lying down completely. On the other side, Brett kept fidgeting, playing with the string of his hoodie, throwing him glances as Eddy kept speaking. “It’s too much fun. Plus I meant it last time, during ballet, I really want to show classical music isn’t a fancy people thing.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, bro, I’m not gonna give up on this. Plus, my mom is always like that. Did you know? She wanted me to be a doctor. I almost caved.”

“Did you?”

Maybe in hindsight he should have realized; the way Brett was barely answering, giving just enough to keep him talking, the way he stared at his arms before avoiding Eddy’s eyes altogether, the way his hands wouldn't stop  _ moving.  _

Lost in memories of his mother’s pinched lips and his father’s steady support, warmth permeating his speech whenever the word  _ dad _ came out of his mouth, Eddy hadn’t noticed.

Brett’s voice was calm, expression barely letting anything out but interest in what Eddy had to say, a small smile flittering on his lips as Eddy preened, retelling all about the challenge his mother had given him, all about how he  _ wasn’t good enough _ , and the way he had proven just how good enough he was. His fingers were betraying him though, something at the back of Eddy’s mind registering his friend must have felt nervous about something, pulling on the strings, hands going under his hoodie, then smoothing it, right leg twitching with a restless energy wine didn’t seem to assuage.

Something in his behavior spoke of change, something in movement, something that wouldn’t be stopped, and Eddy’s heart skipped a beat, his speech became slurred and frantic, trying to hold it off, to maintain the status quo, to keep them from slipping.

“-And I shoved the letter with the score from med school in front of her, then said ‘ _ I’m studying music.’”  _ Eddy kept going, his toe digging in Brett’s thigh feeling the muscle there jump.  _ “ _ I know I sound like I’m flexing- maybe I’m a little but…” his speech stuttered to an end with the lack of reaction in front of him.

Brett was just staring at him now, breath a little short, hand tight around the material of his hoodie. Lights coming from the TV sharpened their features, casting an eerie glow around the room, the only music their mixed respirations to the soundtrack of a few cars passing by. Foreboding wrapped around Eddy’s lungs, the tip of tongue already feeling it - the danger in the air, the catastrophe about to happen.

“Dude, are you ok-”

“Can I kiss you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this one, I couldn't choose just _one_ , but since this is a series, all set in the same universe, it's basically like a multi-chaptered fic anyway.
> 
> Yes, I'm talking about the [Orbit](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786672) series by [missssmon](%E2%80%9C). It follow the development of B&E’s relationship through different perspectives, with so many original takes, incredible characterization and very good OCs, it’s also beautifully written. I honestly have so much feelings for this series, they are some of my absolute favorite works in this fandom <3 every work of this series deserves to be read right now!


	8. Chapter 7: Tea and chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I told you Toni and I were serious, don’t- you’re wasting your time on me.”
> 
> “I’ll be the judge of that,” Brett smirked, leaning back on his hands. “I don’t want to be that pessimist guy, and I don’t want to wish for anything bad at all, but… Just- sometimes people break up. A lot of things aren’t forever. And if that ever happens, then I thought, hey, at that moment, I want his mind to go straight to me, so I have to show you if you ever want to date again, you won’t find better than me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, chapter 7 already, this is going fast, I hope you liked it so far :)  
> Thank you to everyone who left a kind comment or kudos :D I really appreciate every single one of them!  
> Bad art at the bottom of the chapter. 
> 
> Thank you ria for the beta reading <3

#  Chapter 7: Tea and chocolate

Words couldn’t get out.

There was- he had known, perhaps, Brett was getting ready for something, had felt the shift.

He still hadn’t expected that.

Lava was spreading from his chest, burning through his lungs and his breath was too loud in his ears, he could feel Brett leg under his feet, muscle twitching, too conscious of the contact, of the way Brett’s eyes weighed on him.

This couldn’t happen - that kind of thing, it was for anime’s main characters, for girls in romantic movies, not for Eddy and his uneven teeth, shyness and stupid puns. Charming, flirty, solar people like Brett didn’t want to kiss people like Eddy.

He blinked, and Brett’s face was so much closer, sharpened by the blue lights of the TV, leaning on his hand, resting near Eddy’s knee.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he rasped before screwing up everything. “It’s- I didn’t- No.”

“Is it because you don’t like me, or because of your girlfriend?” Brett had stopped, but was still too close, the heat of his hand near Eddy’s knee radiating.

His lips were very red, and everything around was fuzzy, Eddy felt like he was watching everything from above, panic and anticipation climbing in his throat.

“Because of my- I mean, it doesn’t matter why. Just don’t.”

He had never thought- did he like Brett? He cared for him, certainly. There was something between them, an easiness, a feeling of belonging that defied the other experiences of friendship he had had before, but he couldn't- Toni.

“Okay,” Brett cleared his throat. “Okay.”

Space cleared in front of Eddy - Brett had leaned back - but he still had trouble breathing, focusing on each inhale, each exhale - he couldn’t show just how shaken he was.

Silent floated around them; three cars passed, Brett’s phone vibrated twice with notifications that stayed ignored, and not a single word passed their lips while thoughts battled and bounced - everything was just so surreal. There was a sigh on his left, and Brett had thrown his head on the back of the couch, massaging his eyes under his glasses, all his nervous energy seemed to have left him, limbs loose and body lax. Eddy’s heart ached.

“I, huh- I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?” Brett burst out laughing, blinking at him with a bewildered expression when Eddy shrugged, footing lost in this discussion. “Dude, no. Don’t feel bad. You literally have no reason to. I- I knew it would be like that, you told me you had a girlfriend before, and you don’t seem like the cheater type but- I don’t know, hey,” his smile took a shy edge as he avoided Eddy’s eyes. “I just- you’re gonna leave in a few months and I wouldn’t have lived with myself if I hadn’t tried something. If anything I’m the one who’s sorry to have put you in that situation.”

“So… We’re okay? Can we still play together? Be friends?” Eddy could feel how awkward he sounded, but the prospect of just- being alone again, losing this- that unique bond they had formed. It carved a void inside his chest.

“Yeah, as long it’s cool with you to know your deskie has feelings for you.”

A new wave of warmth expanded, the words leaving him short on breath, fluttery and shy.  _ Feelings.  _ Brett had  _ feelings  _ for him. For Eddy Chen.

“Of course I’m cool with it. What kind of dick would I be if I wasn’t? You aren’t- that’s not your fault. It sucks enough for you to- I mean- it would be so unfair for you. I also don’t want to stop hanging out with you.”

“Oh, Eddy,” Brett huffed, sounding so fond that Eddy squirmed.

“Also, you’re not just my deskie,” he added in a mumble.

“Don’t say things like that, hey. You’re gonna give me hope,” Brett smiled, easy and relaxed.

_ Fuck. _

It left him drowning, head dizzy. The only person who had confessed to him before was Toni, and the progression between them had been natural, he hadn’t felt so- so off-balance, swarmed by heat and guilt and-

“I meant- in the sense that you’re my friend. And my partner-”

Brett raised his eyebrow with a smirk.

“For TwoSet,” the blush that had overcome his face must be visible even in the darkness of the room by now. “Like, Youtube partner, because we have a project together, and we make music together, but this isn’t- I’m not trying to give you hope. I don’t want to be that kind of person stringing people along. My no was an actual no. But huh, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate you as a person-”

“Oh my God, dude, stop talking,” Brett cackled, laying back on the couch. “I know, I know, I’m just messing with you.”

“Why are you- how can you be so… I don’t know, chill? Do you ask people if you can kiss them every few months?”

“I don’t.”

“Then…”

“I don’t know man, it’s just- out now. There’s no taking back what I said, nothing left to hide. It’s kinda liberating to be honest, I’m not used to- it doesn’t really- it hadn’t happened to me before. That. What I have for you. It was eating me up. I felt so guilty everytime we were hanging out and I just- I knew it didn’t mean the same to me, and you thought it was just- I didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness while I was getting something else out of it. Plus, you’re like- very touchy-”

Eddy instantly brought his feet back from where they were resting against Brett’s thigh.

“No that’s- that was okay,” Brett laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not turned on by your feet and ugly socks.”

“You have Minions socks.”

“And they’re cool,” Brett wiggled his toes, his eyebrow daring Eddy to mock them any further.

“Whatever,” Eddy snorted, eased by the way banter still flowed smoothly, slowly letting his legs slide back in their previous position, not wanting Brett to feel like Eddy didn’t want to touch him anymore - like he was disgusted or something equally stupid.

He knew he had made the right decision when Brett tried to hide his smile in his hoodie.

“Dude, I’m so relieved you’re taking this so well, I was so fucking nervous. I tried to gather the courage for the whole day, then I thought  _ he’s gonna leave soon _ and I just had to turn off my brain and go for it, but damn… My pulse was beating a mile a minute,” he touched the side of his neck with two fingers, humming under his breath as he waited a few beats. “It’s still a bit high to be honest.”

“I think you’re the first person relieved to get rejected.”

“Ouch,” Brett massaged his chest.

“Fuck, sorry. That was harsh, I-”

“Don’t worry, I told you I was expecting it. I’m not sorry I asked though, I needed to know- just wanted to know if maybe there was a universe in which you liked me. Would you have said yes? If you didn’t have a girlfriend?”

“I can’t- I don’t know, that’s not the point. I have one.”

“You’re not really answering the question… I just- maybe there’s a chance, you know…”

His voice was barely audible, but the set of his jaw was determined, a weird mix of vulnerable and confident that made Eddy swallow. 

“Dude… Man. I don’t want to- I don’t want to be harsh again but… I’m- Toni and I, we’re pretty serious. I would rather- I just want to be clear.”

“You are, don’t worry. It’s not- whatever I think or feel, it’s not on you. I know where we stand.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to take responsibility,” Eddy frowned, somehow not having made himself understood. “It’s just that I don’t want you to be unhappy or thinking things are gonna change if we-”

“Dude, I’m not pregnant!” a chortle escaped Brett’s throat. “Why are you talking like you knocked me up?  _ Take responsibility?  _ Ah man, you’re too much.”

“Well, at least you’re laughing,” Eddy rolled his eyes, convinced a person who had just been rejected maybe shouldn’t make fun of the person who had rejected them like this .

Still, he mused, he would rather have that - Brett cackling; easy and comfortable - than awkwardness and distance - the end of something that had just started. 

“Alright, well now that we have analyzed my feelings in depth, maybe you should go home, hey. It’s like two in the morning.”

“Ah shit, again?” Eddy groaned, already standing up, legs shaky, head swimming.

“I’ll order you an Uber, I feel sober now but I’m not gonna risk taking the car after downing half a bottle of wine.”

“Wise decision,” Eddy put his violin back into its case.

“Wouldn’t want to get you into an accident, hey.”

Something in the softness of Brett’s voice, in the way he almost seemed to talk to himself, tickled the inside of his chest.

*

“Hey, bro,” Brett called just as Eddy was climbing on the backseat, violin securely on his lap.

“Yeah?”

“I know I looked like I wasn’t listening but - congratulations by the way, for standing up to your mother. I’m glad you chose music.”

“Me too.”

He was still smiling when his head hit the pillow. 

His stomach tightened again when he realized he would have to face Toni’s  _ I-told-you-so.  _ That was a conversation he didn’t look forward to.

*

_ “I told you so.” _

“I knew you would say that.”

“ _ I did warn you after the first week.” _

“I’m pretty sure nothing was going on for the first week, he was actually just a nice person at this stage. But still,” he added quickly, feeling an argument coming. “I should have listened to you.”

_ “I know you’re trying to placate me by saying that. But I’m sure even now that you know, if you could go back in the past you wouldn’t change a thing.” _

He had barely slept, analysing, reanalysing and going over every single word he had exchanged with Brett, trying to see the signs he had missed, trying to read between the lines with the new information that  _ Brett had feelings for him _ . When morning lights made his open eyes hurt, his mind had started to wrap around it, the shock had settled and he could begin to reason around it.

The first thing had been to put things back in their context: Brett flirted a lot. Had said he had had relationships, with a “s” - multiples. They had only known each other for a few months after all, his feelings probably weren’t that deep. Eddy was a romantic, if he liked someone, he would already see himself married to them, it was a full thing, a commitment he wouldn't easily come back from. Brett wasn’t. Brett was down to earth, flirty but casual about it, maybe it was still a small thing for him, one that would disappear quickly, a passing crush.

At the same time… 

_ ‘It hadn’t happened to me before. That. What I have for you,’  _ he had said. He had sounded so- so genuine, so honest, unusually open and vulnerable throughout this whole discussion, he would- Brett probably wouldn’t lie about something like this.

But he was such a smooth talker sometimes… 

And he had started a whole circle again, spiraling deeper in his own mind every time, until he heard birds chirp -  _ I want to play Navarra with Brett, _ he had thought - and it was an appropriate hour to call Toni and vent about what happened - he wouldn’t keep her in the dark.

Despite all his turning and tossing… She was right, he didn’t regret a thing.

“I mean, we wouldn’t have- we have TwoSet and I- it went well. It was nice almost. In the sense that- it happened as well as those things can happen when they’re one sided. Better than I thought. I didn’t think… Movies and books always made me think it was this terrible, heart wrenching feeling and it would end with tears and drama, and the two people concerned never talking again or- I don’t know, I wasn’t ready for how… Easy it was to talk about it. So all things considered, I don’t think it changes a lot. He told me he had feelings. I said no. He said okay. And that’s it.”

_ “No Eddy, he asked to kiss you. He specifically wanted to kiss you, knowing you are dating me.” _

“He knew I would say no.”

_ “Then why did he ask?” _

“I don’t know, Toni. But Brett isn’t a bad person just because he developed feelings. It doesn’t make him evil. It’s almost… Isn’t it better? At least everything is out in the open now, he got rejected officially, there’s no more wondering, I could explicitly tell ‘ _ No, my girlfriend and I are serious.’ _ ”

_ “Yes, but he’ll keep on liking you, a talk doesn’t stop feelings.” _

_ “ _ Why does that bother you? It doesn’t matter to you, I said  _ no. _ ”

_ “Because you could like him! You’ve been with guys before.” _

“Toni, just because I am bi doesn’t mean I’m gonna jump every single hot person that comes my way, have more faith.”

_ “Oh, so he’s hot now?” _

“This isn’t- how is that the point?”

_ “I- you know what? Let’s stop talking about Brett. I don’t want to fight with you.” _

“I don’t want that either.”

He was tired, drained and confused; and every phone call with his girlfriend let him a little bit more exhausted.

Silence weighed over the crackle on the line, and he wished they could be in the same room, that he could take her in his arms and reassure her fully that he was hers, because he didn’t have the energy to keep talking with her. 

_ “I don’t want you to dread calling me, Eddy,”  _ she whispered - too late for that - he thought, maybe a bit mean, maybe a bit unfair.  _ “But I don’t think I’ll feel better until you’re back in Brisbane.” _

Mindless talk about their days filled the rest of the discussion, but neither of their hearts were into it, and as Belle knocked on his door to tell him to get ready to leave, he forced down the flutter of anticipation at the idea of seeing Brett again, squashed the warmth that wanted to bloom and brought back memories of happier times with Toni - of evenings watching anime together, of the blush on her cheeks when they had kissed for the first time, of discussions late into the night, of everything that had charmed him.

He wanted to feel happy when he thought about her.

*

The ease around them was a thing he had never experienced before coming to London, that left him marvelling at how it was even possible. Maybe they should have been awkward, maybe he should have second-guessed the way he behaved around Brett - Eddy did that, usually, second-guess things. But it never happened, he sat on his chair, glanced at his left, Brett smiled at him, he smiled back and everything was right in the world.

It didn’t matter how serious Brett had been, the exact nuance of what he felt for Eddy, they cared for each other in their own way and they liked to make music together - it was surreal, almost, that simplicity, the way his mind didn’t try to make knots of everything for once. Maybe Brett’s single-track mind had rubbed off on him.

*

It had been a good idea, the cooking thing. 

Brett would bring a tupperware filled with whatever he had made the day before, and they would go around the Barbican, sit on the steps near the fountains, under the shade of a tree, find a bench in the street, or settle on a park. 

Despite winter being far behind and spring taking the warmer hues announcing its end, London was still London, and when rain made it impossible to eat outside, they enjoyed the comfort or a restaurant again. 

The dishes became more elaborate, Brett’s smile smug when Eddy’s eyes widened in wonder every new day.

“Good food and music, hey. What more do we need to live,” his friend hummed, still sounding too pleased with himself.

“Are you trying to woo me through food?”

“Is it working?”

“Dude…”

“That  _ dude  _ sounded like a no. Guess I’ll have to try harder with the music then.”

“Stop that,” Eddy laughed, shoving another mouthful of spicy chicken in his mouth. “I’m not gonna date you just because you played Paganini.”

“And I practiced so hard,” Brett sighed with mock-hurt. “Too bad.”

Today had them in front of the body of water of the Barbican again - still very far away from that tree where Eddy had seen a cockroach about a month ago, no way he was getting close to that area again. They were playing Mozart this week, and the air had taken lightness and giggles, nothing seemed of consequence as the Symphony still rang in their ears.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Brett hummed after a while, avoiding Eddy’s gaze the second he glanced at him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna hear about it? Or is it gonna make you awkward?”

“No, I- go ahead. You don’t think often, might as well see the result,” he teased, chuckling when Brett rolled his eyes with a smile still pulling at his lips. 

“I guess… You seem happy with your girlfriend, and I want you to be, so the only thing left for me is to wait.”

“I told you Toni and I were serious, don’t- you’re wasting your time on me.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Brett smirked, leaning back on his hands. “I don’t want to be that pessimist guy, and I don’t want to wish for anything bad at all, but… Just- sometimes people break up. A lot of things aren’t forever. And if that ever happens, then I thought, hey, at that moment, I want his mind to go straight to me, so I have to show you if you ever want to date again, you won’t find better than me.”

“Awfully cocky of you.”

“I’ve been told confidence was part of my charm,” he claimed, turning his eyes away.

That’s when Eddy’s gaze dropped. Brett had stopped eating, hands playing with a pebble, turning it over between his fingers, his leg was twitching up, the edge of his laughter pushed from his chest.

“You’re nervous,” words tumbled out of his mouth before he processed them.

“Don’t expose me like that, hey,” a punched chuckle came from Brett’s lungs.

“C’mon bro, don’t be stupid, you can’t- I mean, you do whatever you want but- this feels like such a waste. I don’t want you to make any extra effort around me. I would rather have you being yourself without strain, that’s the version I like best.”

Maybe- maybe if it was for a good cause, slight manipulations like this could be forgiven.

“You say shit like that and then you wonder why I think you’re worth waiting for.”

His blush only made Brett laugh, losing footing in the discussion again, there was no way for him to come back from that, and as he sat back in his uncomfortable chair, going over the 40th Symphony again, his brain repassing their lunch discussion, his chest expanded.

Affection was such a powerful thing.

There was this power imbalance he thought would be natural between a person who had confessed and the one who had rejected them, but Brett had found new footing in the feelings he had for Eddy, secure and easy, allowing them to make him so much stronger Eddy was still the one following like a lost puppy, the one thrown off balance.

He felt silly, suddenly, almost ashamed of having assumed unrequited romantic feelings had to make you weaker. Had to make you less.

Admiration swarmed his chest, for the way Brett’s fingers held his violin, for the way he held himself. For the way he liked. Full-bodied and determined. Pushing and straining against the limits set for him until he found his place.

Something brave and reckless putting him dangerously vulnerable, at the edge of a cliff where he only enjoyed the wind whipping at his face without looking down on the void ready to swallow him.

Eddy could feel it in a flutter of his heart, in the next breath, the tip of feelings that shouldn't be there.

_ Don’t. _

His next downbow was so heavy the strings crunched under the hair.

_ Don’t. _

  
  


*

> **Best deskie in the world**
> 
> r u home?
> 
> Yes
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> go out and stand outside of ur building
> 
> Why?
> 
> just do it
> 
> Do I need to take my violin?
> 
> no, just go out and wait
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

Still in a loose shirt and sweatpants, brain not awake yet, he stumbled out of his bedroom, put on his shoes and went toward the door, frowning at his phone. His sister was sprawled on the couch, reading a book Eddy had recommended.

“Where are you going?” she raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then why are you getting out?”

“I don’t know,” and he passed the door.

He was feeling lazy today, in the mood of spending his Monday crashed on the couch beside Belle, not talking to anyone and letting his brain and heart take a breath.

Morning air was fresh on his skin, tingling him a bit more awake as he looked around, hoping Brett wouldn’t come around and kidnap him out, because he knew he wouldn’t say no.

From a nondescript car with a logo Eddy had seen around London before, a man spotted him and got out, a bag in hand.

“Are you Eddy Chen?”

“Huh, yes.”

“Alright, that’s for you, thank you for your order.”

Inside the bag; a brown packet and a red box.

The Morning Glory Tea and Tim Tams.

His breath caught in his chest.

Fucking- how ridiculous- who even… 

Distantly, the rumble of an engine started, and the shadow of the car faded. 

A gust of wind swept a lock of hair over his eye, and brought a shiver over his naked arms - not enough layers, not enough protection to face this. His phone vibrated in his pocket, but his fingers were frozen around the handle of the plastic bag.

When he let himself fall down on the couch, bag spilling open its present, Belle beamed in pleased surprise.

“Ooh! Tim Tams! I haven’t had any in forever! Good thinking,” and she shoved one in her mouth with a happy sigh. “Why are you smiling like an idiot?” she snorted after swallowing.

“No reason,” he tried to force down the grin without success.

  
  
  


> **Best deskie in the world**
> 
> :D
> 
> :DD
> 
> :DDD
> 
> did u get it?
> 
> You can’t buy my heart with tea and chocolate
> 
> u didn’t like it?
> 
> I did :)
> 
> take that as insurence
> 
> we’ll make twoset happens
> 
> even when u r in brissy
> 
> and im in london

  
  
  


“It’s just tea and chocolate,” he mumbled to himself, staring at his phone like an idiot.

It sprung again, that thing he wouldn’t acknowledge, struggled at the back of his head, tickled the back of his tongue.

_ Don’t. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this chapter was mostly lighthearted and fluffy, let me recommend some angst :D
> 
> [Justification](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21383374) by [reviloo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reviloo/pseuds/reviloo).  
> It's a post-apocalyptic zombie AU, heart-wrenching and beautiful, it shouldn't be allowed to give that much feels with such few words. The end shook me so much, and just rereading the last lines I already want to cry. 
> 
> Their friendship will carry them to the end of the world, and I'm here for that <3


	9. Chapter 8: It was just innocent flirting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey xD It’s still technically Saturday for me, I managed to post this chapter before midnight yay! (I barely had any time to draw, did this in under... exactly 7 minutes, sorry for the crappy af quality, but I wanna stand by my word of a chapter a drawing)
> 
> Thank you so much for the comment and appreciation <3 I haven’t had the time to reread this yet, so some mistakes or incoherences might wander! I might come back and edit once I’ve had some sleep. 
> 
> Thank you Ria for the beta reading and happy belated birthday to [Gryphae](%E2%80%9C)!

# Chapter 8: It was just innocent flirting

Summer lazed around the corner, not actually hot - nothing like Australia - but something about July made him laxer, Mondays and Thursdays spent lazing around on Brett’s green couch, not up for going out now that he had seen all he wanted of London. Open windows and chatter on the streets, the cat’s neighbors mewling and making them giggle when it was in tune with their violin, music drifting from the confines to the outside and cold bubble tea on the edge of the table.

It came from nowhere, they tried playing Ysaÿe again, nailing the first few bars before dissolving in laughter after a screeching out of tune note, moving dust dancing in the sunbeams, the wood of their violin taking the prettiest hue as dusk warmed colors.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The whole world screeched to a halt.

Brett looked surprised, taken aback by his own words, lower lip jutting out, blinking at Eddy like he somehow could explain to him why he had said that. Then wonder came over his face, mouth gaping open as dread spread inside Eddy’s chest.

“Wow. I do. I really do.”

“No, you can’t, it’s too soon, you aren’t-” Eddy panicked, putting down his violin to grab him by the shoulders

“Holy Moly…” Brett’s eyes were wide open, he had stopped listening to Eddy, mumbling to himself in awe. “I never thought- wow, I’m in love with you, so _that_ was what those feelings were,” a shocked giggle passed his lips. “Fuck me...” 

“No, no, no, no. You aren’t. You don’t- we haven’t known each other for long enough, it’s-”

“I mean, I wasn’t sure because I never- but this is-” the hand that wasn’t holding his violin gripped at the shirt above his chest. “Man... It’s crazy.”

“It is, Brett. It’s crazy. You haven’t thought about this-”

“Dude,” Brett raised his head, piercing him with a gaze intense enough Eddy could feel it burn and simmer against his skin. “Stop being in denial. I love you.”

“You don’t know that…” his voice was weaker, fading under the steadiness of the stare boring into him.

“Probably better than you would.”

He had nothing to answer to that, biting his tongue to keep himself from spouting anything else. His hands fell from Brett’s shoulders, not knowing where to put them anymore, palms sweaty and heart picking up.

Brett in love felt dangerous.

As long as it had been an innocent crush, something light they could joke about, something he would get over with a shrug once Eddy was away; it had been okay. But with the determination and steadfastness Brett had about things he was devoted to, the unstoppable force he could become - it left Eddy dizzy, just thinking about it.

“How do you want me to- what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Dude, I don’t know, I just realized myself. I don’t even know what to do with this myself, it’s all- it’s just so _new,_ ” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair, bewildered.

With another incredulous laugh, Brett shook his head and picked up his bow, frowning at Eddy when he didn’t move.

“Well, what are you doing? Didn’t you want to play?”

“I- yes.”

He fumbled back to his violin, chest trembling.

*

It changed nothing and everything.

Because the ease was still there - the banter, the smiles and the feeling of belonging. It was lunches outside, a rest in the music they made together, peppered by stupid jokes and flirting - so much flirting. 

Brett’s every stolen glance felt heavier, each interaction left Eddy overthinking and his lungs empty, his heart too full. 

Eddy dreamed about him, sometimes.

Denied it in the morning.

Something in his chest weighed differently, there was a yearning for the unknown pulling at his fingers, he wanted _something_. And it had to do with Brett.

_I want him to be happy._

_I want him to stop loving me so he won’t suffer from it._

_I want him to-_

He had to stop sometimes, force his brain to a halt when _‘what if’_ s started to poison his thoughts.

It always hit in unexpected moments. 

When they played on Jordon’s Nintendo and Eddy won, whooping and turning toward his friends with what he knew was smugness painted all over his face, Jordon was laughing but Brett- Brett was just looking with the tiniest hint of a smile, so fond and open, before he realized he was caught staring and avoided Eddy’s eyes.

As he sat back on the couch, he very much wished he could pull him in a hug. 

When they had chatted for so long Eddy’s voice started getting raw, but his brain buzzed with ideas and projects, enthusiasm and passion reflected in every one of Brett’s sentences, going from bursts of giggles to slow confessions.

As contentment settled in his chest, he wondered what it would be like to have this for the rest of his life.

When they went out and he could see from the corner of his eyes a guy whispering at Brett’s ear, the club’s music too loud to make anything out, but Brett pushed them gently, catching Eddy’s gaze before shaking his head _‘Sorry, there’s someone,’_ could be read on his lips. 

As his head was dizzy with alcohol, he yearned to have done something to deserve that faithfulness.

  
  
  


“Ouf, crazy night!” Brett sagged beside him against the wall, looking over the crowd dancing and pushing against each other.

Sweat clinged to his back dress shirt, alcohol on his breath and he had tiptoed, mouth right at Eddy’s ear to make himself hear above the music pulsing in their body.

“You don’t have to stop yourself from scoring on my account,” was apparently the only thing Eddy’s brain supplied him with.

“You sound too sober,” Brett snorted.

“I’ve had a beer.”

He could feel the roll of eyes without seeing them, smiling a bit.

“C’mon, you can’t just have the one beer, let’s get you another drink!” Brett shouted, launching himself forward, tumbling on his own feet and giggling when Eddy caught him by the hip.

“I think maybe you’re the one not sober enough…”

“Just the right amount…” he was letting his weight rest in Eddy’s hand, getting heavier by the minute, needing a second hand on his shoulder to stabilize him.

With a huff, Eddy shook his head, determined not to let him get any closer to the next drink. He didn’t even need to say anything, Brett having apparently distracted himself enough that he forgot about that drink they were supposed to get, tongue wetting his lower lip, eyes glazed over, staring somewhere between Eddy’s collarbone and his lips. The caress of his gaze left Eddy shivering, skin ticklish enough to feel the air tensing between them.

“Y’know…. It was just innocent flirting at first,” Brett confessed, eyes droopy but snapping straight on his soul. 

His voice lowered in pitch, almost inaudible in the ambient noise, and Eddy had to lean down to hear, Brett’s cologne and sweat wrapping around him, cloying, choking his lungs.

“Brett…” the way his name escaped his lips didn’t sound warning enough, pushed out of his chest too softly.

“You looked nice and were funny, so passionate about music... I don’t know what you did, I don’t know why it morphed into… Into that,” he was still staring straight in Eddy’s eyes, not stopping, heart spilling open, “I can’t get rid of it, it’s nothing but innocent now- fuck, I want you, I-” a shaky breath. “And I think…” he stopped, letting his stare travel from Eddy’s eyes to his lips, to the hand resting on his hip, then snapped back up. “I think, maybe, maybe you like me.”

He was staring at him from under his lashes, the angle so _wrong_ because Brett looked vulnerable and pretty, there was this mole just under his collarbones and his lips were wet, probably sticky from his last drink- 

_Don’t._

Brett’s hip was warm under his hand, the shirt creasing as his fingers tightened.

_Toni_. 

“I don’t.” 

It weighed strangely on his tongue.

He had no idea what his eyes were screaming, observing Brett nod, take a step back, looking sobered up, suddenly. 

“Okay… Alright… Sorry...”

  
And he disappeared back into the crowd.

*

Eddy wasn’t brave.

He had never been - he was the kid sitting at the front row, closed up in the walls of his shyness, thinking and never doing.

Cowardice tasted bitter when he started avoiding Brett.

It was just- it was so much. Too much and Brett was so flirty and charming; felt comfortable and warm, the love in his eyes was impossible to escape, pulling him deeper. An unstoppable force creating a whirlwind Eddy had to crawl away from before it was too late.

So he had thought - long and hard, how he knew to do and decided to take some distance. To call Toni more. To not let his every inhale come from Brett’s exhales because his feelings were bleeding into his own and Eddy started to have trouble knowing which were empathy and which were coming from him.

Just long enough to clear his head, he promised himself. Just long enough to get away from the pull.

Brett hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even frowned when Eddy had rejected his offers to hang out three times in a row, just said _‘alright, see you at rehearsal,_ ’ with a smile.

Everytime his hand was pulling harder at the hem of his shirt.

But he never stopped offering.

*

For a total of eight days, Eddy had managed to stay away - as much as one could when Brett was still sitting ten centimeters away from him six hours a day.

“Is everything okay?” Stenhouse frowned as Eddy miserably sat alone on the stairs of the Barbican, trying not to think of the handmade lunch for two Brett was eating on his own.

And with Stenhouse’s white hair and wrinkled face, kind eyes and genuine concern, Eddy almost burst into tears.

“I’m lonely,” the words had escaped his mouth without his consent, low enough he hoped maybe he hadn’t been heard. 

“It’s rare to see you without Doris’ young protege, where is Mr. Yang?”

Eddy shrugged, guilt eating him enough to not need anything else as a lunch break.

The old man hummed and dusted the stone next to Eddy, eyeing it with suspicion before sitting beside him on the steps.

“Did something happen?”

It was silly, this British, fancy man in pressed suits shouldn’t remind him of his father like this. They had nothing in common, looked nothing alike, sounded nothing alike. Maybe it was how quiet they were. Silent support oozing from them and his throat constricted further.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody...” he mumbled under his breath, blushing at how childish he sounded. “But it feels like if I don’t hurt one, then I’m betraying another.”

“Ah…” Stenhouse nodded as if Eddy had been perfectly clear. “Relationships are complicated… Unfortunately, it doesn’t become any easier with age, believe me,” he chuckled. “There is never a right way to do things.”

“It feels like there is, and I’m just too weak to handle the consequences.”

“I am going to sound like a very generic old man for a minute there, but… The time you have with loved ones… You can’t get it back once it is lost, many things don’t last forever. Don’t end up with regrets.”

‘ _Did you?’_ he wanted to ask, burning at the tip of his tongue, but Stenhouse was looking at the sky and the question felt too personal.

Suddenly those eight days seemed like the biggest waste of time of his life.

*

“Dude! I’m so fucking excited!”

Jordon was vibrating, rolling on the back of his fancy shoes’ heels, playing with the sleeve of his suite. 

They hadn’t been able to see a lot of each other recently, because Jordon had been busy, burrowing himself under sheets and half hummed melodies, that crazed look in his eyes he got when he got too focused on a creation. 

But he had managed, and the London City Philharmonique was playing one of his compositions tonight, the hours spent on it not having gone to waste - Eddy was so fucking proud of this idiot. Jordon’s ways really were mystic. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna listen to my own piece, this is so strange. Ah, man, I’m so lucky!I promise I’ll have more time to hang out after tonight!”

“Bold of you to assume I wanna hang out with you.”

“I know,” Jordon sighed dramatically. “Now that you have Brett as your new best friend you don’t need me anymore.”

The low chuckle at his right turned his stomach over, nervousness creeping in his throat. As usual, Brett looked perfectly composed, smiling and joking like nothing ever happened between them.

“It’s because I offer him bubble tea. Eddy’s loyalty is pretty easy to buy,” he teased without meeting his eyes. 

Jordon laughed, probably too wired at the perspective of his pieces being played by a professional orchestra to notice anything amiss.

“Alright! I’m going! Our seats are on the front row, don’t fall asleep, tell me honestly what you think after it’s done.”

“Sure mate, don’t worry you’ll know if it sucks.”

“What friends are for.”

*

The evening had been perfect, the music incredible. Hushed whispers and complice glances, slow analysis and genuine appreciation brought him back to that first afternoon they had spent, the three of them, talking and playing music, the entirety of their six months in London spanning in front of their eyes, full of possibilities and wonder.

Warmth seeping in his side from Brett’s presence - he couldn’t ignore him anymore. He was the best thing London had to offer, and if he had to control himself a little bit more around him, be careful of not being swept up in unwelcomed feelings, well he would do it - feeling like maybe borrowing some of Brett’s bravery for himself.

*

Pride was oozing from him, Jordon’s piece had been incredible, that accompaniment part, shifting in minors after the big chord, during the second movement that hit the spot… 

It took him glancing at Brett’s fond smile to realize he was talking out loud - to no one in particular - just ranting about the piece, standing outside of Stephen’s Church, agitating his arms like an idiot.

He clamped his mouth shut with a blush, not having been this embarrassed around Brett for a while. Feeling shy like the first day.

The night was fresh despite the summer and he tightened his jacket around himself.

“It was a nice evening, hey,” Brett said softly, a smile tinged with uncertainty pointing at the corner of his lip.

“It was.”

They stared at each other in silence for a while, the audience still trickling out, cars passing by, and Eddy felt like such an idiot he started giggling out of nowhere.

In less than three bewildered seconds, Brett was following suit, people giving them concerned glances as they cackled for no reason.

“Why are you- what- why are you laughing?” Brett wheezed, a hand on his stomach.

“I don’t know!”

They sagged against the cold stone of the church, breathing fast, a chuckle still escaping every few seconds as they tried to keep it under control, calming down, purposefully not looking at each other to avoid another impromptu fit.

“Oh, man…” Brett whispered under his breath.

“Mmh.”

“Zimmerman cornered me. Told me I should confess to you.” Brett cleared his throat. “She didn’t realize I was way ahead of her. The discussion was still embarrassing as fuck.”

“Stenhouse gave me a speech too. More subtle, but same idea.”

“I’m sure my situation was worse. I received an email. From Zimmerman. I had to come into her office after rehearsal. She told me to enjoy youth with the creepiest smile, and then told me you were gonna leave soon - as if I didn’t know already - and- dude... It was so embarrassing, I swear, those old people should deal with their own love trouble instead of meddling with ours.”

“Fuck dude, she called you in her office to talk about your love life? What the fuck. Zimmerman is about as subtle as a bull,” he could feel the beginning of hilarity come back, creep at the back of his throat and he forced himself to calm down, breathing in, feeling a smile too big for him stretch his lips. “I missed you,” Eddy blurted, high on joy and laughter.

When no response emerged from the man at his side, he glanced down.

Brett had grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling it up until it covered his mouth and nose. It wasn’t enough to hide how red his cheeks were, how deep the crinkles in his eyes were. The image was so endearing he had to bite his tongue.

“I’m- I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” he mumbled. “I just- I got a bit overwhelmed.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was drunk and pushy and I shouldn’t have. You were right to- I didn’t have any right to come at you like that. It won’t happen again.”

“Still, I should have talked to you instead of running away like that.”

“To say what? ‘ _Please don’t be in love with me’_? I can’t- I can’t do anything about it, so if you feel uncomfortable, the least I could do is to let you have the distance you wish for.”

“But I don’t wish for that,” he pushed out, feeling all kind of vulnerable when Brett blinked up at him, lips parting open in confusion.

“So… You’re okay? With us hanging out again?”

“Yeah. Yeah I am. Just- As long as it’s made clear I won’t cheat on my girlfriend. Ever. I’m- it’s very important, for me. To be faithful. I think- maybe I wanna spend the rest of my life with her and I- I know you said you would wait, but please don’t.”

“You can’t decide that for me,” Brett whispered.

“No, but I can beg you not to. It’s not worth it, I won’t leave her, I don’t want you to chase- to be unhappy-”

“Alright. Alright, I got it. We can- we can stop talking about it now,” Brett cleared his throat. “Don’t worry, I love you but I won’t push for anything, your virtue is safe,” he joked. “So…. You wanna catch up on the lost time and come to my place now? There’s- we can talk about another video idea. If you’re still on for TwoSet…”

“I am! Yeah, no, definitely, let’s do this!” 

“I promise I won’t touch a drop of wine in your presence, the combination of you plus alcohol late in the night is bad for me.”

“Alcohol is bad for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Are you sure you really became a musician? You sound like either a doctor or a mother - we will put that wig on you.”

“Pfft, dude, you should have seen _my_ mother, typical tiger mom. The kind you see in drama…”

  
  


*

When Toni’s call came, Eddy had been so excited to be around Brett again he was buzzing, vibrating with too much energy for how late it was. They hadn’t stopped talking, all lights on, a bad TV show playing in the background, papers spread around with video ideas, cups of tea on their thirds refill, beginning of scripts, and everything about it tasted like a sleepless night.

“Hello!” he answered cheerfully, leaning against the door of Brett’s room where he could have some privacy.

He had never been there before, they had always hung out in the living room. He wasn’t surprised by how neat and clean the space was - the flowered duvet and pillow case had made him snort. 

_“Hey!”_ she giggled, tone matching his. “ _So? How was the concert? Was Jordon’s piece okay?_ ”

“Okay? He killed it Toni! It was so impressive, I can’t believe it. Don’t tell him cause he’ll get cocky, but he’ll go far, I really believe it. His weird mix of luck and genius is working well for him.”

_“Wow, you sound energized,_ ” he could hear the smile in her voice. “ _You should probably keep your voice down a tad, you’ll wake up your sister._ ”

“Ah no, don’t worry, I’m at Brett’s-”

“ _What?!_ ”

His stomach dropped. She had never sounded so furious, insides trembling he rushed to explain - never got the time.

“ _What are you doing with him at one in the morning? What the fuck Eddy. I thought- I thought you had decided to keep your distance, what is this about?_ ”

It probably wasn’t the time to tell her he was in his bedroom, he thought crazily, nervous laughter almost bubbling.

“No,” his hand shook. “No, Toni. Nothing’s going on-”

“ _How can you say that to me?_ _It’s one in the morning and you’re at his place, like nothing’s wrong, as if it’s perfectly okay-”_

“I’ve been at friends’ places way later than that before.”

_“Yes, but they weren’t in love with you!”_

“Toni. We talked about this. With Brett. I told him. I told him I would never leave you. I told him we could only hang out again if he was aware of that. That I wouldn’t cheat. He knows- I know. You need to know too.”

“ _Eddy, you don’t- you say that but- I-”_

And then the most horrible thing happened.

She started crying.

Toni never cried. She got frustrated, she expressed her disapproval, she got stressed, she got insecure- but she never cried.

“Oh, no. Please, don’t- please.”

_“You say that,”_ she kept going, sobbing. “ _But you- you’re still with him. Not with me.”_

“Hey, hey. I’m on the phone with you aren’t I? I left him as soon as I saw the call, I told you- you’re my priority, Toni. Always.”

_“I’m scared- you’ll only come back to break up with me- because I’m annoying and clingy and-”_

“No! Fuck, no, you’re not. Please, don’t say that. I- you know that’s not true. I just told him- I told him, just a few hours ago- you should have heard- I just said I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you Toni!”

The crying was breaking him, he was pacing, breathing too fast- and Brett- Brett was just a door away, and the walls were so flimsy - a parody of privacy. 

“Please…” he repeated, not knowing what he was pleading for anymore, his own eyes tearing up.

_“I love you,”_ she choked.

“I love you too… I really do… But I can’t...”

_“You can’t keep away from him, huh?”_

Terror seized him, pulling at his got, crushing his chest, every sentence felt like a break-up and he couldn’t- this was so stupid - he had just said- just said he would never break up with her.

“Toni. Toni, listen to me, if you need me to, I’ll stop. I’ll stop everything. I’ll explain, I’ll tell Brett you can’t take it and we’ll- we’ll just stay professional, I- I did it for a week I can keep-” 

Tears were streaming down his cheeks now, and how pathetic were they? The couple sobbing together on each side of the phone.

_“No it’s- I- you’ll just come to hate me if I try to control you like that- I can hear you crying, I-”_

“I don’t hate you. I could never, hey. I love you. I do.”

_“I’m sorry I’m so fucking insecure… I should have- I should have let you explain...”_

“You sound like me,” Eddy breathed, feeling her calm down, reason slowly coming back to her speech. “It’s okay, I understand, I’m the king of insecure. I get it.”

A wet chuckle answered, and Eddy collapsed against the door. Crisis averted.

*

His eyes were red when he opened the door of the bedroom, feeling exhausted to the bones, any trace of energy he had before depleted, dragging his weariness behind him like a sticky cloak. 

Toni had calmed down enough, gathered her wits, apologized once more, and the sigh of relief he had let out once he hung up must have been heard through the whole neighborhood.

Still on the same spot on the couch, Brett hadn’t moved. Knees brought up to his chest, arms curled around himself, cheek resting against his leg, staring at nothing. He jumped when he heard the door and the way his eyes bore into Eddy before averting them just as fast, the blue lights of the TV dragging down his features, making him look both younger and older, had lead fall down Eddy’s stomach.

“I’ll drive you home,” he offered with a weak smile.

“It’s-”

“-okay. Don’t worry about me.”

*

The silence in the car had never bothered him before, filled with music, humming or warmth.

Eddy wasn’t uncomfortable now. Just sad.

“Hey, huh, listen” Brett started at a red light, hands tight around the wheel. “I don’t want you to get into trouble with your girlfriend because of me. I- I’ll understand. If you can’t- you said so, just earlier. She’s- she’s more important, I get it.”

“No. No, it’s- I don’t know if it’s okay but- she- it’ll be okay. I can’t- I don’t wan’t to stop being friends with you. I like it, the time we spend together.”

“Yeah… Me too.”

“Would have been weird if you didn’t, hey,” Eddy snorted. 

“Maybe I’m a weird person who doesn't want to spend time with the people they like.”

“Then I would say constantly inviting me to stay over was kinda counter-productive.”

“It’s impossible to win an argument against you if I don’t fluster you, hey,” Brett chuckled under his breath, changing gear to reinsert himself in the circulation.

Eddy laughed at that, his limbs relaxing under that uncanny power Brett had on him - the one that always made him feel at home.

Silence floated, freer. Eddy opened his window and let his hand out, feeling the air flowing between his fingers, vibrating against the tip like a string of wind.

It slowed down, vibrato fading as Brett parked in front of his building.

“Your stop,” he smiled.

There were no crinkles to his eyes, the usual radiance of his grin gone from his face.

Eddy didn’t get out of the car immediately - he could see Brett fidget with the strings of his shorts, pulling and knotting them.

He could count down the seconds for Brett to gather his courage, say what was on his mind and he admired how brave he was so much it left him breathless.

“I’m not- I’m not doing anything too wrong am I? Is it- Is it that bad?” he swallowed, still not meeting Eddy’s eyes. “I don’t- I don’t want anything- I mean I do, but I- I don’t want to _take_ anything from you. I don’t want to take you away from your girlfriend, I just- I just love you, how is it bad?”

“It’s not,” Eddy whispered.

When he didn’t hear the car start as he passed by the door of the building, he looked back. 

Brett had his forehead pressed against the wheel, and his body shook once.

Eddy turned away before the second shake - this wasn’t for him to see.

*

When he trudged inside, heart heavier than his feet, the light was still on.

Sitting in front of her keyboard, headphones over her ears, Belle was still awake, probably picking a tune.

He dragged himself over his bedroom, not in the mood for anything other than spending the rest of the night torturing himself by overthinking every detail.

“Eddy…” Belle stopped him before he could escape. He swore under his breath and turned toward her. She had turned the keyboard off, her whole attention on him. “Listen, this isn’t really any of my business and I know sometimes relationships are messy and complicated and not as clear cut as the outside world wants us to perceive them but…”

She ran her fingers through her long hair, they flowed, dark and silky above her shoulder. The movement reminded him of Toni and he felt like crap.

“Just- You seem really in love with Toni, and I haven’t met her, but from your calls, she looks like a super sweet girl, smart and loving and… Whatever you’ve got going on with Brett…”

“There’s nothing going on with Brett!” he snapped, the thing in his throat heavy and large.

“Hey, calm down,” she got up and rubbed a hand over his arm. “You know I don’t want to make any quick judgment, but as your big sister I also can’t let you cheat on your girlfriend without saying anything-”

“I’m not cheating on her! I’m not! She’s… She knows that! Brett’s… I just saw Brett- he was crying in his car when he thought I wasn’t looking- he’s the one people should be worried about, not Toni! I-” he was getting frantic, his breath coming in shorter puffs, aware he was probably verging on hysteric right now - lungs too tight. “Am I not allowed to care? Can’t I care for someone just because I’m not fucking them? Because it’s too late! I care too fucking much and it’s breaking me and I- fuck!”

“Hey, hey, hey, come here,” she wrapped her arms around him, petting his hair in slow strokes, and somehow, despite being a head taller than her, he felt like a little kid again. “You can, of course you’re allowed to care, I’m sorry, Eddy. Breathe… It’s gonna be okay...”

*

They sat on the couch, herbal tea in hand watching the night sky - no stars could be seen, but the grey clouds suited his mood better - the two nocturnal Chen siblings.

“Why was Brett crying?” Belle hummed, voice low, as if Eddy was a baby bird that would fly off at the slightest sound.

“He told me he was in love with me. I told him I would spend the rest of my life with Toni. I told him to give up.”

“Oh.”

“It’s… I hate this. If I’m not harsh and clear enough, if I don’t cut all forms of hopes, then it’s not fair for Toni, and misleading for Brett, but when I am... It feels like I’m ripping his heart from his chest and stomping on it and I don’t think I’m strong enough to keep doing that.”

“Oh, Eddy... “

“And that’s the worst! I’m not even the one who’s hurting in here, I’m the one who’s making everyone involved hurt, I know… I know in that kind of situation- I’ve watched enough romcom, I know you have to make a choice and stick to it, because there will be one person who will be hurt, and you can’t avoid it. It wasn’t even a choice for me, I’m dating Toni, so I’ll always be choosing her, I’ve made that clear. To both of them. But it’s so- so unfair! So unfair how she doesn’t realize I’m already giving her everything, prioritizing her in every way, hurting other people to keep her from hurting and she- ”

“Hey. Eddy. She’s hurting too, you can’t hold her accountable for being worried when a cute guy is flirting with her boyfriend who’s on the other side of the world. I mean, I also thought- you and Brett have a strong bond, something a bit unique, despite not having known each other for long, it’s easy to mistake that as romantic. It’s easy to feel left out.”

“I know-” he could feel his throat clog again, took a sip of the tea to try and make it melt. It didn’t work as well as his sister’s hand on his hair. “I know… That’s… That’s worse.”

She let her head fall on his shoulder, her warmth comforting against his side.

“I’m sorry. I know you care too much, it’s your biggest fault.”

“Thank you, I guess,” he rasped.

“Not a compliment.”

“Bully.”

They stayed long enough that the sun started peaking over the buildings of London, that their fingers cramped around the cold tea mugs.

“I miss dad,” he whispered against her hair.

“I know… Me too.” 

By the time the sun had fully risen, he could breathe without feeling like crumbling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since last chapter I offered an angsty recommendation, I’m gonna give you some fluff to compensate the end of this chapter :D
> 
> If I talk fluff, of course the one I think of immediately is my favorite fluff provider, ShiwiSins and more specifically this fic: Before the World was Big (I would have loved to link it, but because their account is private, the hyperlink doesn’t work, if you have an ao3 account, you can look it up :))
> 
> I was actually writing the angst for this chapter when I read their werewolf fic, it softened me so much I had to pause because I wasn’t in the mood to hurt anyone after that, including fictional versions of Youtubers I’ve never met. That’s actually a pretty accurate description of the way all of their works make me feel. Just very soft, if you find me writing sappy, extra sweet things, that probably because A) I wanted to make my best friend smile, or B) I just read one of Shiwi’s fic. Enjoy their work! :D


	10. Chapter 9: Put in the hard work, be patient, and don’t give up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There is something you can do.”
> 
> “What is it?” he felt quivery, the fresh air raising goosebumps on his arms - August in London nothing like in Brisbane.
> 
> Was Brett going to ask him to stop talking to him after he went back? Maybe? To give up on TwoSet so he could give up on him? - give him the space he needed to get over his feelings.
> 
> He would- it would wreck him because he cared, because Brett’s attention filled in all the little holes he had come to London with, because he felt needy for those eyes on him, but if Brett needed that, he would do it.
> 
> “Stop trying to make me give up on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the half-week long delay :) my week was pretty hectic, I had this huge project to finish and I didn't have any time to write, but pushed through and I've got some time next week so I should catch up on that fic!
> 
> Here's an easy chapter and some determined Brett, to settle after the heartache of the previous one, enjoy :D 
> 
> (I'M SORRY FOR THE QUALITY OF THE DRAWING.)
> 
> As usual, thank you so much Ria for the beta-reading <3 after beta-reading all of MeloMania, she's with me again for this giant baby and I can't thank her enough :)

#  Chapter 9: Put in the hard work, be patient, and don’t give up

  
  


It left Eddy dizzy, somehow, as he sat next to Brett the morning after, and his friend offered him a warm smile, babbling about all the things they needed to do before Eddy left, sounds of tuning in the background, footsteps and the buzzing of a new week of rehearsal around them, Brett his energized and teasing self, as if he had never broken down in silent sobs just the night before.

“Sorry about being so moody yesterday,” inconsequential, the sweep of his hand seemed to say. “I decided not to do it again, we don’t have much time left together, it would be a waste to spend it being upset.”

Eddy’s sleepless night dragged him down, brain to mouth filter lost somewhere in exhaustion, befuddled by the way Brett just- just kept going, smiling and-

“How- how are you so strong?”

“What?” a high pitched laugh escaped his friend. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Before he had managed to explain himself, Zimmerman barged in, smoothie in hand, to start the rehearsal, and the subject was lost in music.

It hadn’t left either of their minds, because Eddy kept pondering, letting his eyes track the dark circles marring his deskie's face, lines of tiredness pulling at his skin, jaw set in a stubborn angle, a smile still at the ready every time he glanced right to meet Eddy’s stare - it should have felt forced.

By lunchtime, Brett was pushing a Tupperware filled with sautéed vegetables and noodles into Eddy’s hands and his heart squeezed when he realized Brett had cooked for two every single day. His every thought must have been painted on his face, free to be read, because Brett snorted, nudged his feet.

“Stop staring at this poor box like it just told you your dog died.”

“I’m allergic to dogs.”

“Dude, not the point,” he chortled. “Eat. I put effort into that shit, it can’t go to waste.”

“Is the food part of some plan to get my heart?”

“Huh,” Brett pushed back his hair, avoiding his eyes for a second. “The food was Ray’s idea. He said the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. ”

“You talk to your friends about me?”

“Dude, yeah. I’m completely lost, I’ve never - is courted the right word? - doesn’t matter, the point is, I’ve never actively tried to get someone to like me before, I needed opinions. And even if I hadn’t asked, Ray would have meddled anyway, the fucker is already making cards for our wedding.”

“ _ What?”  _ Eddy squeaked around a mouthful of his lunch.

“Don’t mind him - he’s annoying,” closing his mouth around a bite of his own food, he sighed in delight and glanced at Eddy. “Is he right though? Is the food working? I need to know for... scientific purposes…”

Hints of hopefulness and bashfulness lingered in the corner of his smile before it flitted away to go back to his default teasing expression - just enough to make Eddy swallow thickly. 

“Dude.... You’re so-”  _ headstrong, determined, unrelenting- _

“-stubborn yeah, that’s my secret. Not strong, just stubborn,” he cut him - maybe afraid to hear the actual answer - shoved another vegetable between his lips, taking the time to chew before speaking again, agitating his chopsticks in Eddy’s direction, as if to better get his point across. “I’m not familiar with the feeling but I’ve decided to tackle love the same way I do with practice: put in the hard work, be patient and don’t give up. I’ve been playing the violin for more than fifteen years now, who knows where I’ll be once I’ve known you for fifteen years.”

“So I’m hard work, huh,” Eddy choked back, proud of his brain for coming up with banter when he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in Brett’s hair and hug him for all he was worth.

“The hardest,” with a teasing edge to his smirk, he let the fondness of his eyes speak for him. “Good thing I don’t mind a challenge.”

*

After the paroxysm of the development, the big chords of that night - the snapping strings, dissonance in fortissimo - it was time for the recapitulation, humming the main theme again, with a slight twist to it. The tune of his friendship with Brett sounded familiar and comfortable, back in safe waters, the end of their time together pressing them to accelerate the tempo.

The closer to his flight back home he got, the happier Toni sounded, the more at war against himself Eddy felt. 

Battling emotions surged and clashed - the relief of not fighting with Toni anymore, the anticipation of seeing her again, the excitement of being home soon, the ache of leaving nearing, the anxiety of having to find a job once he came back, the weird feeling that left his insides cold and fingers trembling when he thought about not seeing Brett again.

Hanging over their head, the threat of separation pushed him even closer to Brett, wrapped up in each other, getting the most of every minute together, throwing ideas for videos, trying out the few restaurants they hadn’t been to before, talking late into the night, perfecting Navarra until every note was thrown in such perfect synchronization elation spread and swallowed.

Maybe after Toni’s outburst he should have maintained some more distance, keep Brett within the reasonable proximity of a colleague, of a friendly acquaintance -  _ the time you have with loved ones… You can’t get it back once it’s lost -  _ Stenhouse’s words rang in his mind, and Eddy couldn’t pretend to just  _ not care _ . He cared about him, respected him, admired him, and when he would have all the time in the world for Toni after, Brett would become a dematerialized voice through speakers and a pixelated face on a screen thanks to Australia's crappy wifi.

They had long become a subject of gossip for most of the members of the orchestra, teases and knowing looks thrown their way, but Eddy couldn’t care less - not caring about what people thought of him, that had to be Brett’s influence. 

Yes. They were close. And so what of it?

There was a new defiance when people commented on his relationship with Brett, maybe born of the protectiveness from seeing him crumble in his car that night. Snappy comments at the ready for anyone who seemed to try and drive a wedge between them.

“Eddy, love, when are you leaving?” Zimmerman exclaimed, forcing them to glance up from the video they were snickering about on Brett’s phone.

The music hall was still mostly full despite the break, musicians milling around with a tea or a coffee, turning to get a glimpse of the scene.

“Huh, I- the flight’s in two weeks…”

“Dear! Already? Time goes by so fast! Doesn’t it, Brett?” she was almost yelling by now, a dramatic hand thrown over her forehead.

“Time does that, yes...” 

_ Bro, what the fuck is this about?  _ Brett shot him a confused look.

_ No idea,  _ Eddy’s wide eyes and shake of the head answered.

“We will all miss you so much, darling. Brett, won’t you miss Eddy too?”

“I mean, it’s a shame he has to leave, but-”

“But you two are so close! Surely you can’t let him go like that!”

“I- what?” Brett was melting in his chair, face hiding from view behind the music stand, fingers pulling at the hem of his sleeves and all of his usual misdirection talents seemed to have been chased from him by sheer shame.

“I know it’s terrible that he’s leaving already! Isn’t there anything you wish to tell him before?”

“I’m… okay, miss- Doris-” 

Eddy was slowly dying, feeling his cheeks get so warm he thought maybe he was passing out from pure second-hand embarrassment, pretending he couldn’t hear a word when he was five centimeters away from Brett.

“I understand dear,” she patted his cheek. “You keep it for a private talk.”

A shadow fell over them as the tall form of Stenhouse appeared beside Zimmerman.

“Doris, maybe you should leave the youth alone now, I am sure they know what they are doing.”

“Of course you would say that, Richard, always prone to inaction-”

“This isn’t what this is about!”

Bickering escalated as the two walked off in another direction, probably to keep firing at each other without a public, leaving two extremely mortified young men behind them.

Someone coughed on top of a badly hidden chuckle.

*

“That was the single most embarrassing moment of my whole life.”

“Felt.”

*

Jordon hadn’t even tried to say anything though, but his knowing face and low hums - an old witch with all the wisdom in the world - whenever he saw them play a piece together were exactly as unnerving.

“How are you gonna keep that TwoSet thing going on?” he slurped loudly on a tapioca pearl, leaning back in his seat to get his face exactly on the square of light warming the wall of the bubble tea shop.

“I think we should do that through video calls, record each on our end and then one of us can edit the two separate videos together and-”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Brett shrugged. “But we said we would do it so we are gonna make it work anyway.”

A smile fought his way on Eddy’s lips despite not getting to finish his sentence - he wasn’t the only defensive one when it came to them and their project. His eyes flitted back from where they were staring at his own hands only to catch the most evil smirk grow on Jordon’s face.

“Oh, Brett!” Jordon started, pulling his phone out, foreboding climbing in Eddy’s chest. “Have you seen that video of Eddy flirting with himself in the mirror?”

_ Oh, fuck no. _

“What? No. Show me,” Brett was already leaning toward Jordon, ignoring Eddy’s cries not to, snagging his wrist under the table when Eddy tried to stop him, fingers tight around it - violinist grip, gentle but sure - it left indents of fire on his skin. “When was this?”

“A few months back, Belle filmed it.”

Eddy could hear his own indignant cries through the video, soon covered by Jordon and Brett guffaws, red had never climbed so fast on his face, spreading on his neck and chest.

“This is so funny,” Jordon cackled. “What was he even trying to summon? Or did he just discover he had dimples?” he replayed the video the second it was over, snorting through it again.

“Someone must have pointed it out,” Brett’s tone was exactly the proper balance of teasing and neutral. The look he gave Eddy was anything but - a hungry spark that left his mouth too dry to retort anything.

“Must have made a huge impression then.”

The fingers around his wrist tightened, Brett could probably feel his pulse ricochet through the skin.

“It would seem so…” Brett hummed, gaze no longer on Jordon’s phone, entirely focused on its living and breathing subject, searching for something in Eddy’s eyes that-

_ Fuck, no. No, no, no. _

HIs tongue was stuck on his palate - Brett couldn’t know-

“Everyone knows Eddy has a praise kink,” Jordon was the kind of person who kept kicking even when his opponent was on the ground.

And Brett was burning, plastered against his side, stare boring into him, fishing things from him Eddy wanted to keep buried and-

“Does he?” 

_ No, I can’t- _

“Could you please stop talking about me as if I weren’t in the room,” Eddy whined, proud of how natural his voice came out when his heart was exploding in his ears, snatching his wrist back from Brett’s grip.

“Sorry, you’re too easy to bully,” Jordon snickered, finally pausing the video to take another sip of his drink. “But don’t worry mate, there’s nothing wrong with looking at one’s self reflection from time to time, just don’t get caught by your sister next time.”

“I mean, the dimples  _ are  _ cute,” Brett added, ignoring the way Jordon chortled to take in Eddy’s every reaction at his words.

Whatever he was looking for, it made the strange light in his eyes grow more intense.

Eddy had been right. Brett in love was dangerous.

*

“You say you don’t like me and then you do stuff like that…” 

Brett’s voice was low, hope dancing in his next exhale as Eddy swallowed. Rain was falling around them, leaving them huddled on a bench, watching the downpour from the kiosk they had taken refuge under.

“I wasn’t- I was just flattered. It’s nothing-”  _ nothing to do with you?  _ Liar.

“Please, I just- I just want to know. Be honest. I’ve always been honest with you. I’m not asking for anything other than that- I just- I just want to know...”

“Brett…. I can’t-”

“Don’t you? Don’t you like me? You have to, a little bit,” he breathed, fingers twitching on his jacket, eyes wide under his glasses, refusing to let go of him.

The park was almost empty, green space spreading around them, air flowing and Eddy shouldn’t have felt cornered - his universe reduced to the cold stone of the bench under his thigh, to the stare boring in his mind, to the feelings he was squashing down, battling him to escape his lips.

“Of course I appreciate your company but-”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I can’t- I can’t answer that.”

“That’s enough of an answer then,” Brett leaned back, his body still a hot press at Eddy’s side, the beginning of a smirk climbing on his face, renewed resolve in his eyes.

“Brett- no. Whatever I feel or not- it’s not the point.”

“It is. It very much is.” 

“It doesn’t matter…” his own voice was weak. “I’m- I’m in a relationship. There’s no going around that.”

“That’s okay. I’m playing the long term game. If you feel something for me now, then it can happen later, when you’re free.”

“I don’t want you to play any game, I don’t want you to keep having hope and- what if I marry her? Are you gonna keep on waiting?”

“Will you?”

“What?”

“Marry her?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. I’m just twenty-one. Maybe?”

“See? There’s still hope for me then.”

“Dude!”

“Yes?” the smug tilt of his lips was driving him crazy, the rain hitting the metal roof of the kiosk and everything smelled fresh and alive. “What are you gonna do? Stop me from being patient?”

“You’re- Fuck, you were right; you’re so _stubborn._ You’re just gonna hurt yourself. Is there even anything I can do? Anything I can say to make you stop?”

“There is something you can do.”

“What is it?” he felt quivery, the fresh air raising goosebumps on his arms - August in London nothing like in Brisbane.

Was Brett going to ask him to stop talking to him after he went back? Maybe? To give up on TwoSet so he could give up on him? - give him the space he needed to get over his feelings.

He would- it would wreck him because  _ he cared _ , because Brett’s attention filled in all the little holes he had come to London with, because he felt needy for those eyes on him, but if Brett needed that, he would do it.

“Stop trying to make me give up on you.”

The trembling spread from his chest to his fingers as they stared at each other, so close on this little bench, Brett’s face speaking only of love and determination.

Thickness replaced dampness in the air - hotter between them - Brett’s eyes glazed over, hands twitching and Eddy’s breath couldn’t get out.

He was getting closer still. They weren’t touching yet but Eddy wasn’t backing off, stuck in place, the rain too loud in his ears - or was it his pulse?

There was this mole at the base of Brett’s neck, and that other one beside his nose, the speck in his eye, the way his lower lip was falling open- he felt a pinky graze his hand, heart jumping wildly at the hint of contact.

“You can’t- can’t kiss me,” he rasped.

“Fuck,” Brett sounded winded, punched out.

He leaned back with a dying groan, sprawling against the metal railing at their back, rain wetting the tip of his hair, massaged his eyes under his glasses.

“Fuck, dude. You’re not making it easy.”

His pinky was still brushing against the back of Eddy’s hand.

*

“Fuck it, I’m going.”

“Oh my God, you’re crazy. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God...” 

Eddy was biting at his nails, feeling his blood leave his face as Brett stormed the corridor, catching up with the silhouette of Hilary Hahn leaving after their first rehearsal with her. He could only watch with horror as Brett stopped her, pushing under her nose the phone with their latest video, mumbling things Eddy couldn’t hear from the corner he was hiding behind.

She giggled once, then laughed - shoulders shaking with it and Brett was making moves in his direction to get him to come.

With hesitation carved in his gait, he trudged toward them, hearing Hilary Hahn’s gentle voice clearer with each step.

“It’s good! This is so funny,” she was smiling, radiante and encouraging.

It took about four sentences for Eddy to be more at ease - her grounded, humble and down to earth behavior a delight to experience. It reminded him of Brett, somehow, that power they had of making the people around them feel safe and secure.

When she left with a last wave and a promise, they exchanged a glance and burst out laughing, high strung and nervous.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe we fucking talked with Hilary Hahn… Fuck,” Eddy felt like jumping around in joy.

“Man, she’s gonna make a video with us! Oh God, I’m the luckiest man on earth!” Brett didn’t have as many qualms, effectively jumping up and down, grinning like a madman. 

“Dude, what were you thinking?” he was smiling around his words, unable to fully grasp that Brett had just ran after Hilary Hahn to show her their dumb,  _ dumb  _ videos.

“Thinking isn’t my strong point it would seem.”

“C’mon, don’t sell yourself short, I mean-” he started laughing.

“A jab about my height. Original, Eddy.” But still, he was grinning.

The wave of fondness and admiration he had for this idiot hit him so unexpectedly, he had no control over his hand when it patted Brett on the head.

*

His last day barged into him like the first explosion of the surprise symphony. He woke up, staring at the roof of his bedroom and that was it - he was leaving  _ tomorrow _ . 

Then his phone vibrated beside his pillow and he was smiling despite the early hour. 

  
  


> **Best deskie in the world**
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> get up lazy ass im waiting
> 
> i have breakfast
> 
> fresh orange juice
> 
> im drinking yours if your not here in 5

  
  


The entirety of this last day - he had given it to Brett.

Belle didn’t say anything as he barged out of his bedroom, hair spiking in every direction, zipping up his jeans and shrugging on a jacket at the same time not three minutes later.

“Don’t wait for me for dinner!”

“I never do,” she rolled her eyes. “Enjoy your last day in London - last day that you  _ could  _ have spent with your sister, by the way.”

“Love you too,” he yelled before the door of the flat slammed shut, already racing down the stairs.

_ It’s all for the orange juice,  _ he snorted at his poor tentative at escaping the truth.

“Hello!” Brett chirped as the door to the passenger seat opened, looking way too chipper for the early hour, pushing a plastic cup filled with juice and a brown bag with a pastry between his fingers before turning on the ignition.

“Hey, good morning,” Eddy smiled, head a bit dizzy from all the running not ten minute after waking up, voice still sleepy, draggy around his vowels. 

“Alright, I’ve got the whole day sorted out!” Brett exclaimed, blinding in his enthusiasm. “Okay, I lied, more like, half-sorted out. Or- well, I’m leaving some place for improvisation,” he chuckled as the car stopped at a red light, morning dusting yellow on his skin, shadows dipping in his collarbone. He rubbed his palm on his jeans, sending a quick look at Eddy. “Fuck, man. I don’t know- I think I’m a little nervous.”

There was a small giggle, a smile on his lips that verged on shy at the corner and Eddy had to bite his tongue. His heart was stuck in his throat -  _ don’t get your hopes up,  _ he should have said.  _ This is just a friend thing, I’m not available, we can’t- _

The words couldn’t get out. Brett looked free and happy, excited and awake, maybe for a day, Eddy could try not to break both of their hearts.

“This isn’t a date,” he just ended up reminding, but the window was open, the wind flying in his face as Brett drove too fast, summer chirped around them and he was smiling too.

“I know,” Brett’s eyes crinkled. “I still want you to have a good time.”

“I already am.”

“You’re a fucking sap, and  _ I’m _ the one in love with you.”

Eddy laughed, feeling lighter with every meter they left behind, determined to enjoy his not-date with Brett to the fullest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And today's work is.... By [Apsacta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apsacta/pseuds/Apsacta/works), again xD (there's a reason they're my favorite author.): [Wires](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294626).
> 
> Their take on robot!Eddy is wonderful, heart wrenching as usual and made me feel way too much. It seems that every word has a meaning in this, just a perfectly executed work, in writing, plot and character. It's impossible to know whether or not you want to cry or smile and makes you want to cradle their version of Brett and Eddy between your arms and keep them from all harm.


	11. Chapter 10: Gate number 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! Chapter ten already, time goes by so fast. The chapters are getting longer and longer xD I had a bet with my best friend that I wouldn't add more than chapters from what I had initially planned, so instead I just make them bigger - I'm still winning. But it also takes me much more time to finish each chapter, I can't believe I'm still kinda on track with my bi-weekly update schedule. 
> 
> As usual, thank you Ria for the beta reading, because if I can't believe I'm still on track with the writing, it's even more impressive for Ria to keep up with me :)

#  Chapter 10: Gate number 40

  
  


For a not-date, it had looked very much like a date.

“An aquarium, the London Eye and hot pot with everyone? Seriously, bro?” Eddy chuckled as they crashed at Brett’s place after the restaurant, stomach full, heart warm, buzzing with the lingering discussions and energy flowing around. “I thought you weren’t the romantic type.”

They had awed and giggled at the weirdest sea creatures, munched on a sandwich in a park trying to dissect the lives of passersby, mocked each other for even climbing in the London Eye - had gotten strangely silent at the top, overseeing the last of their time together - and when Eddy had expected some fancy restaurant to end the day, the dinner with Jordon, Belle, Erica, Ray, other members of the LSO and Brett’s friends had been a burst joy that took him by surprise. 

“I’m not, but you are,” Brett gave him a side smile and mug of tea.

_ You’re making it really hard not to fall in love with you. _

It was almost a relief to know that he was leaving tomorrow, because he had no idea how much more of that he could take - maybe it had not been the best decision to have a sleepless night at Brett’s place before departure.

“Are you gonna be okay driving tomorrow? My plane’s early.”

“That’s fine, I’ll sleep after you leave, Zimmerman gave me a day off anyway, she’s probably thinking we’re gonna fuck all night.”

Eddy almost spat his tea.

“Dude!”

With a burst of laughter Brett sprawled on the couch, body heat radiating even if they weren’t touching. The main lamp was still turned off, blue moonlight and the orange LED above the kitchen counter fighting uselessly against the blanket of night.

“She’s not the only one, hey, my friends were way too involved in that whole date thing.”

“This wasn’t a date.”

“Yeah, sure,” Brett snorted with a smirk. “Did you have fun on the not-date then?”

“I’m not gonna answer that, you look too smug already.”

“Bro, you have to know that refusing to answer like that is way too telling.”

“Maybe I was just trying not to hurt your feelings, you’ll never know.”

“That’s okay, anything you didn’t like I’ll pretend it was Ray’s idea.”

After six months, the banter was so natural, Eddy tended to forget himself around Brett, melt in the easy discussions and let his body relax, catching himself smiling too wide, leaning too close.

“Did he help you plan the d- the day?”

“I couldn’t have stopped him if I tried.”

“How far along is he in the wedding cards?”

“Oh, he’s done by now, probably making table plans and a guest list.”

“Why are you even still listening to him?” Eddy chuckled. “That was the cheesiest not-date I’ve ever been to, and that’s me talking.”

“I mean…” he leaned back on the couch, propping his socked feet on the table, the black pants making his legs look so slim Eddy’s hands could probably wrap around them. “Some of Ray’s advice wasn't all that bad, kinda worked.”

“How so?” 

“You’re here with me,” the low hum of his voice, the angle of his head as he gazed at Eddy almost ripped a shiver from him. “And you like me.”

“I never said that.”

“I know you didn’t,” cockiness climbed on his face, settled on his lips, in the weight of his stare. “You can’t so I’m saying it for you.”

It felt too intimate, suddenly. Brett’ arm brushing against his own, the limited space on the tiny sofa, the darkness cocooning them, muting everything that wasn’t the other. They spoke softly too- barely above a whisper, confidence dripping from Brett’s words, but the way his adam's apple bobbed betraying hidden insecurity. The skin of his neck looked so pale under the moonlight streaming through the window, the mole at the base a dot begging to be-

“Should we- maybe we should turn on the light? It’s- too dark, I think,” Eddy cleared his throat.

With a sharp inhale, Brett blinked and got up. “Wouldn’t want to prove Zimmerman right, huh,” he mumbled under his breath, pressing the switch.

_ Fuck all night. _

No. No, of course not.

Wouldn’t want that.

*

After brainstorming video ideas and jotting down scripts for skits, they ended up trying to make each other guess animals on the violin, goofing around before breaking into Czardas then Navarra almost hitting each other with the bow from how close they stood, giggling like kids when the neighbor from below knocked on his ceiling to make them shut up as two in the morning crept in.

“I think we should stop with the violin,” Brett chortled, out of breath after jumping up and down for hours. “What do you want to do now?”

Eddy knew it was probably normal for a twenty-one years old male who hadn’t seen his girlfriend in six months to think a lot about sex, but the way his mind went to  _ fucking  _ every time Brett gazed at him probably shouldn’t happen. The silence has stretched for too long now, carrying more than words and Brett pushed back his hair, weight dancing from one leg to another.

“Or- or I can still bring you back to your sister's place, y’know. If you want to. I’ll come and pick you up tomorrow to drive you to the airport.”

“No. No, that’s- that’s okay, I can stay here, it would be a waste to spend my last hours in London sleeping.”

“Yeah?” Brett’s exhale was still a bit short on breath, pupils too large for the brightness of the room as they racked over Eddy’s arms and chest.

“We could- ah-” his brain short-circuited, had to restart, glancing around desperately for inspiration - the door of the bedroom was ajar. “We could play video games? Watch a show? Just drink and have a good time.”

“Dude, what the fuck. There’s no way I’m drinking, it’s- that’s dangerous around you,” he swallowed once, visibly fought with the desire in his eyes and Eddy had to avert his gaze not to imagine what Brett meant by  _ dangerous _ \- what could possibly be going on in his mind. “Plus I wanna be able to enjoy every minute sober. I’m in for just chilling and watching stuff though.”

Bows were loosened, rosin cleaned, and violins put back in their case. Eddy’s luggag against the wall seemed to take so much space, presence too wide for how innocuous they were, before Brett turned off the lights again. As the black suitcase melted into the night, breathing became easier.

The name of the anime they were watching - something very long - kept escaping him along with the plot, busy as they were criticizing the character’s bad decisions and the boobs defying gravity and common sense altogether. 

Brett was right there, a few centimeters away from him, and tomorrow he wouldn’t. Brett had given him one of the best days of his life for no other reason than to see Eddy have fun. Brett would drive him at six in the morning to the airport, so Eddy could go back to his girlfriend, then drive back to his place and crash. Brett was fun and free, so fucking loving and brave it made his fingers twitch and his chest ache with the need to have him closer - if only for a few hours.

He knew he had been keeping himself from touching him too much since he learned about his feelings, a pat on the shoulder or a nudge of the knee were commonplace, but anything more seemed… 

“Oh, fuck that,” he mumbled to himself, rearranging himself on the couch.

Slowly, ever so carefully, so that his friend could get away if we wished so, he dragged him in his arms, Brett’s eyebrow shooting up to his hairline.

“Is that… Is that okay?” Eddy whispered, nose now buried in his hair like he had imagined for so long.

“Dude…” Brett chuckled, let himself fall fully against Eddy’s chest. “I should be the one asking that.”

His shaky exhale reverberated in Brett's lungs, warm body pressed against his - it didn’t have any right to feel so good.

They hugged for so long, the screen blurred in the background, Brett’s smell wrapped around him - he could feel his pulse thundering, breath hot against the skin of his neck.

*

A startle jostled him awake, he blinked for a few seconds to gather himself, remembering he was in Brett’s living room, lights off and a snore near his ears. Lying down on the couch, hairs tickling his chin and a weight on his chest.

One of his arms was wrapped around a waist, the other hand buried in dark strands.

The next beat of his heart sent lava to every one of his organs, lungs burning, stomach melting, comfort and desire battling for the body weighing him down, he let his fingers ran over the dip of Brett’s spine - he shouldn’t, probably, but why would it matter, in a few hours he would be in a plane, away from every temptation Brett represented.

The anime was still running, colors exploding in the darkness of the room, gliding on Brett’s cheeks squished against his chest, He let go of the body on him, paused the anime and fumbled for his phone on the floor - 4 a.m.

“Hey,” he whispered to the slumbering man on top of him, squeezing his waist. A low groan answered, tinged with a whine. “Brett, dude, there’re more comfortable places to fall asleep.”

“No,” came the slurred answer, “don’t think there’s…”

“C’mon, your bed is not that far if you wanna catch a few hours of sleep before driving, I can carry you,” his tone climbed in a teasing pitch - cut short when Brett shook his head against him, rubbing his face on his chest in the process, which was just way to fucking adorable.

“Nah,” he was starting to sound more awake, sighing before slowly rising from his lying position, hands lingering on the chest he had been slumbering on, the imprint of Eddy’s shirt on his cheek. “Nah, if I sleep anymore I’ll never get up, we need to do something to keep me awake,” he rubbed his face with both palms, reaching blindly around until Eddy handed him his glasses.

It was- weird. That position. Strange- wrong- right. Sitting on his hips. 

Eddy looked out the window - pale moon shining down on them.

“Aren’t the park's gates kept open at night?”

*

It had never been this empty - silvery greens under the night, their solitary stroll along the stars, rustling of leaves whispering in their ears, fresh night air whipping at their face, filling their lungs, sharpening their minds.

They talked, like they usually did. About nothing - about music. About their future - about TwoSet. About the next video - planning their time together, holding the reassurance this wasn’t the very last of their time together.

They had a Youtube channel together, they had this project, this idea that had just seen the light of birth, a newborn that needed both of their attention to survive - dates marked on paper, assurances burned in their mind that they couldn’t lose each other.

“We’ll stay friends, hey,” Eddy kicked a pebble.

“I’ll keep on loving you, yeah.”

“You won’t listen to me if I plead you not to.”

“I won’t.”

Bubbles of warmth popped in his chest, slightly painful before releasing honey in his veins - sweet and guilty.

The sun rose above the green, first rays of shine pointing toward the airport, their elbows brushing against each other. It was time to go.

*

“Alright, your luggage is checked, you’ve got your ticket, I guess this is as far as I can come with you.” 

Brett had showered and changed before taking the car, looking small in his blue shorts and rumpled sweatshirt. They stood awkwardly, security looming in the background, violin straps digging in his shoulders, heart heavy. 

_ I don’t want to leave,  _ the thought struck him as he stared at Brett, this man that had made everything more colorful, everything just  _ more.  _

His heart was aching, a blade of pain slicing in his chest and he wanted to reach out, wanted to hug Brett so he couldn’t see the way sadness had claimed his gaze.

He didn’t want to leave, but he knew he couldn’t say so. The line between them was so thin, tense and fragile, on the verge of snapping. He knew if he voiced this, Brett would look at him with hope and love, and he would kiss him. And he couldn’t. 

He had managed not to stray for six months, this was not to crack at the very last minute.

“I… Huh. Fuck, I don’t know what to say,” a nervous laugh escaped Eddy’s lips.

“Yeah, me neither,” Brett racked his hand through his hair with a strange chuckle, avoiding his gaze.

It was so much harder, somehow, leaving London. 

“Okay, I should go,” Eddy mumbled, readjusting the strap of his case, glancing down at his ticket, and- “Oh.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the gate number…”

“What about it?”

“It was the same in Brisbane Airport, forty.”

“Funny coincidence.”

“I swear, I feel like the main character of a romance drama.”

“What am I in that scenario? The love interest or the obstacle that tries to stand between true love?” Brett joked, hands buried in the pockets of his sweat - his smile was a bit fragile and Eddy couldn’t answer that.

“I should- I should go. I’ll call you? When I’m back home?”

“Yeah, do that.” Brett swallowed, fingers tightening on the fabric of his sweatshirt, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing. When he stared at Eddy again, the last strands of vulnerability had been successfully hidden, a bright smile back on his lips. “Alright! I don’t want your last memory of London to be a sad one! I’m super glad I met you, those past six months were the best of my life and I’m- you’re just- I love you and it’s nothing to be sad about,” he nodded to himself, patted the side of Eddy’s arm before stepping back.

“Thanks. Thank you, Brett. For everything. You have no idea- the best thing about London, it’s you.”

“Wow, I’m better than the whole LSO? I’m so fucking flattered, man. Also, I’m not sure your sister will enjoy hearing that, I’ve got her on Facebook you know,” his eyes crinkled.

“Dickhead,” Eddy rolled his eyes, glanced at the forty on his ticket once more and turned his back.

_ C’mon, you’re gonna see your mom, and your friends, and Toni and- you’re gonna be back home, and-  _

The woman checking tickets took his with a smile and pointed him to the security check with a cheer he tried to emulate. 

Plus he still had those tea bags Brett had stuffed in his suitcase when he thought Eddy wasn’t looking, video scripts on his phone’s notes and-

His suitcase! 

Fuck!

Had he left it in Brett’s car? No, he remembered getting it out.

Was it still with Brett?

Had he left it in the hall?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He ran back the whole way, the woman who had checked his ticket sending him a concerned glance as he passed by her.

“Brett!” he yelled when spotting the small form trudging back to the entrance. “Wait!”

His friend stopped in his tracks turning toward him, eyes wide, people staring at his dramatic run with interest.

“My…” he panted, hands on his knees. “My suitcase, it’s... Where- where is it?”

“Bro… We checked your luggage in already...” 

Hands still in his pocket, eyebrows climbing on his forehead, a smile started to etch itself on Brett’s face, growing and growing until he burst out laughing, and Eddy felt wholfully stupid.

“Oh. Yeah. Huh. Shit,” the blush overtaking his face was so strong it chased the red of exertion.

With a fond shake of the head, Brett grabbed him by the elbow to help him stand back up.

“So this is why you were running after me, huh,” he smiled - it was only then Eddy noticed the wetness at the corner of his eyes. “And here I was thinking it was my life who was about to be a bad Chinese drama.”

What it must have looked like - Eddy running toward him like crazy, calling his name in the middle of the airport. All to ask for a stupid suitcase.

“I- Sorry.”

“Go, you’re gonna miss your flight.” 

He seemed soft and fragile, under the harsh light of the airport, in his shorts and pink hoodie, tired lines on his face despite a bittersweet smile, eyes misty behind his glasses. 

Fingers fluttering around Brett’s thin wrist, Eddy brought him closer - leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“Don’t be sad, we have TwoSet together,” he whispered against his skin.

“Fuck, Eddy. You’re killing me. Go before I kiss you.”

“Okay, alright, sorry,” he pressed his lips one more time on his brow, firm and short and stepped back, fingers only leaving Brett’s wrist to flutter on his hand. “I-”

“Go!” Brett pushed him on the chest, shaking his head with desperation. “Now! Or I bring you back to the car with me.”

Without answering with anything other than a nodd, he swallowed, took three steps backward, turned and ran back, the lady checking his ticket once more with a fond roll of her eyes.

“Young love,” she teased, having no idea how much the sentence hurt. 

As he passed the gate number forty, security done with, and crashed in a plastic chair, he felt incapable of doing anything other than look at the B contact of his phone, scrolling up and down without bringing himself to press the call button.

He ended up on the phone with his sister.

*

It was the middle of the day, when his plane had landed in Brisbane, the winter swallowing him taking him by surprise - never as cold as the British one, somehow chilling his bones.

Toni and his mother were both working, no one to pick him up, and he dragged his exhausted body from the taxi to his family’s place, happy to be back in his childhood house, sad to be away from London.

As he crashed in his bed, curled in a little ball, phone in hand, he finally tapped the icon he had been staring at for the past two hours.

“Hey,” he smiled as he heard the other pick up. “I made it home in one piece.”

_ “And you’re not practicing already? Tsk tsk...” _

“I know, I should be ashamed,” he hummed, turning his face on the pillow, the rustling of the sheet loud as he settled on top of the covers.

_ “Are you in bed?” _

“Yeah… Might take a short nap.”

_ “D’you… D’you want me to leave you to that?” _

“No that’s okay,”  _ I feel lonely.  _ “I don’t mind.”

_ “Alright,”  _ Brett chuckled.  _ “I’m interrupting practice for you, I hope you can deal with the consequence.” _

When his mother came to wake him up for dinner, his phone was resting on his pillow, a smile still plastered on his face, from the speakers, the halted notes of violin practice floated to him - Brett had never hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am beyond delighted that [MyCuriosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyCuriosity/pseuds/MyCuriosity) started moving their works on ao3 because I am a huge fan of their works! They always feel grounded, with unexpected plots and so original! I’ve always read them in one go, the balance between character development, plots, and dialogue is always very good and a delight to read, it always feels like opening a short novel when I start one of their work and I can't do anything until I'm done. [What a time to be alive](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613660/chapters/72797250) is a brilliant display of their skills, having all the good qualities I talked about and I really wish I could come up with that kind of plot and story because it's incredible :D do check out all their works! I hope they keep posting them here.
> 
> (On another note, here is my best friend's latest highjacking and ending to this chapter:
> 
> "And then they kissed, very very very much. They were so happy to share their saliva. Toni received a text like 10 sec prior to that kiss saying “Nah, I’m gonna do Brett, sorry miss”. He broke up with her… the path was clear. Then they decided to live in Aix en Provence. Where it is warm in summer, not that cold in winter, and they can play violin to their heart content (while kissing) only bothering the birds. And they could film under the olive trees… what a life !"
> 
> She got frustrated with the pining xD)
> 
> **/!\ Next chapter is an interlude posted as a separate work (for rating reasons ;)) it's Part 2 of the Gate Number 40 series:** [Want](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884530)


	12. Chapter 11: Distance made easier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“If I do- if I drop everything for you, one day, I trust you to know- to be clear that it was my choice, that I did it while being aware of the consequences...”_
> 
> “If you ever drop the damn LSO for me, I’ll make sure you regret that decision every single day of your life.”
> 
> _“My choice, Eddy,”_ the smirk that climbed in his face was both insufferable and endearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I barely have any time to write, the number of buffer chapters I have ready is slowly but surely trickling down xD there is a possibility that toward the end of this fic, you might have to wait a bit for the last chapter or epilogue. Thank you so much for the nice comment and support though <3 this is a long fic to write (still not as draining as MeloMania xD) and every kudo and comments is heart warming!
> 
> If you haven't read it, here's the interlude [Want](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884530) :)
> 
> Thank you Ria, who actually still helped me correct this chapter just today xD

# Chapter 11: Distance made easier

Life eased back in its steady rhythm. His time in London both a fuzzy dream and sharp, clear cut memories, he woke up in a daze, sometimes, weirded out at finding another body next to his - taking a few seconds to remember he wasn’t at his sister’s place anymore, and having Toni in his bed was normal.

During those few hours of the night, her slow breathing lulled him back, mind floating around without an anchor. He felt both deeply relieved and uprooted, like he was back in familiar waters, like he left something in London, like his previous life fitted awkwardly around him. As if he had grown so much while he was away, became larger, fuller, and was trying to crawl back in a hide too small and constraining, ripping at the seams, bits of him spilling out. 

*

It had all been fine at first, effusive reunion and the explosive joy of having her _right here_ with him, her laugh in his ears and her hair under his fingers, body wrapped around his as they talked, eyes on the ceiling, musing about the future.

Reassurance that he had been right padded the ache of his heart - everything was easier now that he was back in Australia, Toni was back to her usual self, grounding and soft, the cooking of his mother, his usual bubble tea shops, and his friends. The maddening attraction that had pulled at his heart back in London faded, only leaving easy affection and care for Brett.

“I’m getting my own place,” he couldn’t contain his giddiness, vibrating on his seat, phone pressed against his ear.

He hadn’t really stayed in touch with him at first, too raw, still, from their separation - he needed to calm himself, to rediscover who he was outside of this pull his friend had on him.

It had worked fine, kept busy by wrapping up the last of his college formalities, enjoying his time with his girlfriend and Jordon had come back from London too with a thousand and a half stories. But the second he got the email from the orchestra, there was only person on his mind to share the news with.

_“Really? Bro, that’s super cool! Where?”_

“Sydney, I got accepted in the SSO!”

_“Congrats, hey. It’s a really good orchestra, I’m proud of you,”_ Brett went softer, this tone he took with Eddy sometimes, so painfully fond he had to bite at his smile to keep it from being too wide. _“You’ll show me when I come to visit.”_

His voice washed over him, comforting and familiar; memories of late-night walks, the taste of shrimp and lemon on a park, a green couch, crazy laughter and music everywhere. It had only taken Brett two sentences, and Eddy already felt a silly grin tug at his lips, happiness growing in his stomach and what an idiot he had been to try and avoid that - it would be okay, he could just be glad to talk to him, and still have a good relationship with Toni, he saw her everyday, they would make it work.

“Yeah! I’ll try all the restaurant to find the best one-”

“Are you on the phone with Brett again?” his mother barged in his room, frowning when she saw him sprawled on his chair, feet propped against the desk. “Don’t sit like that, and don’t put your feet on the table. You should be practicing, not talking about that YouTube thing of yours.”

With a sigh, he apologized to Brett - _give me a few minutes -_ he mumbled low enough for his mother not to hear and let the phone rest on his desk.

It took convincing, soft words and endless reassurances - _I made it into the SSO, I’m fine Mom, don’t worry about me -_ before she left his room, leaving him both relieved and guilty that he was leaving soon.

She would be all alone, one of her children at the other end of the world, the second one counting the seconds until he could get out of this house.

_I’ll visit a lot_ , he promised himself, _I’ll show her she won’t have to be lonely, even if I’m on my own. I’ll show her I can be a good musician, have a good life, and still have TwoSet._

*

“Hey,” he dropped a kiss on Toni’s head - hair smelling of sun, her cool fingers in his. “Are you staying with me at the beginning of next week or are you back in Brissy?”

“Depends, how many hours will you spend on the phone with Brett this time?” there was something in the edge of her voice, in the way she kept her eyes on her screen that made his stomach drop despite her teasing tone.

“Not too much, I promise, we just need to go over something on Monday, but then my whole Tuesday is for you.”

“Do you mean it?” she gave him a side smile. “We can do whatever I want? Play viola and eat mushrooms all day?”

“I would choke on a mushroom before even touching the viola.”

She nudged him in the ribs and laughed, phone falling forgotten in her laps as they started a tickle fight that turned into a cuddling session, her head resting on his chest, and he had to blink at the ceiling to chase away the memory of Brett’s weight on him; it caught him unexpectedly, bouts of memories from London printed behind his eyelids, making him forget where he was - who he was with - for an instant. 

Tensions had started to creep back between Toni and him since he had moved to Sydney to start playing with the SSO while she was teaching. She was around more often than not; he had thought maybe having them almost moving in together would be good for them, after everything that had happened - show her he wanted her with him, always.

Bits of nastiness that tainted their tongues bitter when they both worked all day to find each other tired and on edge in the evenings, unused to share their space after all that time apart. And when their free time together got trampled on by TwoSet, snide comments and passive-aggressive remarks from Toni had become commonplace. 

Sun was trickling from the window, warming his cheek as Toni’s finger played with the rim of his shirt, humming a Naruto soundtrack she had been playing on the flute. The couch was a bit too small for the two of them, Eddy’s legs dangling from it, just the two of them and peace - those moments made it worth it. 

*

“Yoooo, Brett!” his smile was bigger than his face as his friend’s grin met him from his screen. “Congrats on getting hired by the LSO, bro! We knew it would happen but still.”

Sweat was rolling down his brow, summer in Sydney suffocating and humide, heat encompassing and the fan whirring five centimeters away from him couldn’t stop his shirt from sticking to his skin.

_“Yeah, I wasn’t really worried, but I’m glad to officially not be an intern anymore. Zimerman and Stenhouse asked about you by the way, they weren’t surprised we were still talking and doing the TwoSet thing._ ”

“They ship us.”

“ _Oh definitely, Erica’s been giving me sympathetic glances ever since you left, it’s been three months now, but they still treat me like a heartbroken puppy, I guilt-tripped them into watching our videos, say it reminded of you,”_ he cackled like the gremlin he was, never afraid to pass on an opportunity. 

“Trust you to use that you had feelings for me as a marketing device for the channel,” Eddy burst out laughing, leaning back in his chair.

Toni was still teaching and he felt free to chat for as long as he wanted with him, it felt good, not to have her judging stare on his video calls - she wouldn’t try to stop him, but the unease was still here, and as soon as Brett saw her on the frame, he found an excuse or another to hang up - probably feeling bad about stealing from their couple time. 

_“Why are you talking past tense?”_

There was a smirk on Brett’s face, soft lights from morning in London casting the shadows of his eyelashes on his cheeks, elegant fingers wrapped around a coffee mug, the green of his couch as a background and Eddy so suddenly wanted to jump into the screen and breathe in the comfort of his morning, the cold air of December in London - which made no sense, because it was eight a.m. for Brett, and in no way Eddy would be up at this hour on a day off, even with the enticing smell of coffee wafting through the apartment.

“I don’t- I didn’t want to assume...” 

_“T _hat I s_ till loved you? I told you I wouldn’t give up, and it’s barely been three months, you underestimated the effect you have on me,” _the corner of Brett’s mouth was twitching even through the screen and could feel his own lips curl up in response, happiness and guilt spreading in a hot burn through his body.

“Can’t I wish for you to move on?”

_“What if I don’t want to?”_

“I thought you wanted to make me happy, ignoring my wishes like this isn’t very gentlemanly.”

_“Ooh, nice one. Are you becoming impervious to flirting? Damn, I’ll have to try harder, flustering you is like, the best part of my day.”_

Nobody had ever chased him like this, been interested in him this way - made him feel smart and attractive and _wanted_ in all the ways Brett did. It was maddenly flattering, stroking at his low self-esteem when even months and continents apart couldn’t make this love die down - like maybe, somehow, he was worth it. It ripped him apart too - not all London memories catching up with him were good ones.

The broken silhouette of Brett crying over the wheel of his car smashing him in the heart at any moment, knowing he would have no idea what was behind the bright smile meeting him from the other side of the computer - and this couldn’t be good, that unrequited love he insisted on having, who knew what Brett was burying deep into himself to be able to present a cheerful face every day, care and worry shaking his ribcage as he wanted to wrap himself around him and never let him be hurt again, especially not by Eddy himself.

“Please don’t, it’s terrible enough as it is.” 

_“Says the guy with the worst puns.”_

“Only the weak try to Haydn their humor… Oh, dude! I almost forgot! I saw your mom!” 

_“What the fuck? How?”_

“Our mothers know each other! I was speaking about you, and my mom was all _‘Oh, I know a Brett Yang, he’s the son of one of my friends, really successful boy._ ’ and I was like - sounds like someone I know,” he grabbed the hem of his shirt and flapped the fabric up and down to make air circulate against his skin - still sticky. 

_“Really? Broooo, that’s crazy, I already said I don’t believe in destiny and shit, but this is just too many coincidences.”_

“I know right? Your mom invited me over, you told her about me, didn’t you?”

“ _Huh. Yeah. Maybe. A bit,_ ” Brett racked a hand through his hair, eyes dancing away from his camera as he chuckled. _“What did she- did she tell you anything?”_

“Dude, she’s so proud of you, it’s hilarious! There’s a fucking shrine with all of your competition prizes-”

“ _God fucking-_ ”

“It was so funny! She was all _‘ah, my son, he excels in everything you know. And he’s playing with the LSO now!’_ and I was like _‘I know Miss, I met him there.’_ ”

Brett let out a long suffering groan, hiding his face in the collar of his shirt, drowning in shame and fabric.

_“It’s too early to be this embarrassed,”_ he bemoaned - but Eddy was far from done.

“She showed me childhood pics. You had cute cheeks as a kid, dude, you were rockin the vest too! Also, I knew you had to have braces at one point, your teeth are too straight!”

_“She showed you everything?”_ Brett whined, not resurfacing from his shirt.

“From baby to uni yeah, I was able to see the complete evolution of Brett Yang.”

“ _Fuck me, this is a nightmare,”_ his head popped up from his shirt, hair spiking up, glasses crooked and Eddy wanted to ruffle it through the screen.

“We could have met so much sooner,” Eddy mused, hand supporting his chin.

_“Like in middle or high school?”_

“Yeah, we would have been best friends for sure!”

_“You’re breaking my heart, dude,”_ Brett snorted, hitting his chest jokingly. “ _But that’s okay, I’m used to it by now.”_

This took Eddy out of it, heat overwhelming again, the fan doing nothing but buzz in his ear, irritating more than helping, and he could feel his hair matted in his forehead as worry climbed in his throat, squeezed his lungs and- was Brett really heartbroken because of him? Had he caused that much pain?

“Don’t- don’t say that,” he whispered, maybe too low for his mic to pick it up, maybe too low for Brett to hear.

_“Oh, Eddy. No. Hey, look at me,”_ ripping his eyes from the letters of his keyboard, he obeyed, wondering how fondness managed to cross oceans and a screen. _“It’s okay. I’m okay, I was just joking, don’t feel bad. I’m not unhappy, I like liking you. You are not making me sad, alright?”_

“I feel like a kid needing to be comforted over the smallest thing.”

_“You overgrown baby.”_

“Hey!”

_“Nice editing, by the way, on the skit. I cracked up a bunch of times, good job.”_

As the compliment spread in his chest like firecrackers, he allowed himself to be distracted by Brett, to believe in his smile and relax in his presence.

*

Strings vibrated as he plucked them, slow and awkward, shoulders drawn forward in a tentative to protect himself from solitude.

Laughter and easy conversation flowed around him, all those people he didn’t know, chest fragile under the stares he imagined burning the back of his neck, unable to bring himself to speak even when he very much wished so.

His deskie in the SSO had wandered off, and his violin was his barrier against the world.

Making friends was hard.

> **Best deskie in the world**
> 
> whats another word for tomb?
> 
> im trying crosswords
> 
> i suck
> 
> So that’s why you knew the word impervious xD
> 
> Catacombs?
> 
> whats a cacatomb?
> 
> oh wait, i just googled it
> 
> thanks for being illiterate!
> 
> Bro… Are you sure you meant that?
> 
> ?
> 
> Google ‘illiterate’
> 
> oh shit!
> 
> no!
> 
> not what i meant!
> 
> fuck!
> 
> the opposite
> 
> xD
> 
>   
>    
> 

“We don’t see you laugh a lot,” a girl he thought maybe was named Emma, but who definitely played the saxophone plopped beside him.

“Ah, sorry, it’s just- one of my friend is being dumb. And illiterate,” he snorted with a side smile and a glance to his phone.

“No, don’t apologize, it’s cool to see you are capable of that kind of expression. You just seemed a bit intimidating so we didn’t know how to approach you, do you wanna grab a drink with me and my friends after rehearsal?”

And suddenly, the orchestra wasn’t such a hostile environment anymore.

*

> **Best deskie in the world**
> 
> Happy New Year!! :D
> 
> if it includes you in it then ill welcome it with open arms
> 
> srry im a bit drunk
> 
> It’s okay, me too
> 
> this year will be the year of twoset yeah
> 
> cant wait to see you again
> 
> Dude, you get mushy when youre drunk
> 
> I love you

Phone pressed against his chest, he never answered.

*

“So, you and Toni… Still going strong, huh,” Jordon leaned his head on his hand, glancing up at Eddy from where he was scrolling through disturbing forums on his phone. 

As usual, it seemed like his words meant more, like he was pushing and trying to get things from Eddy he wasn’t ready to voice.

He felt defensiveness crawl up - of course he was still with Toni, he wasn’t fickle, wasn’t the kind of person going from girlfriend to boyfriend like that.

But as his frown deepened, Jordon’s smile only grew.

“So, how’s Brett?” he just chirped, and Eddy felt exposed, ribcage opened as a sharp light glinted in his friend’s eyes.

*

“-God bro, you have no idea, and- oh, hi, babe, how was your day?”

“Are you still on the phone with Brett?” Toni frowned as she put down her flute case.

“Yeah, we are filming but I’m done soon if you want-”

“No, that’s fine, I’m gonna take a walk.”

He barely managed to add anything that she had switched shoes, swapped her phone from her handbag to her jeans pocket and was out of the door.

_“Dude? Are you okay? We can stop filming if you want,”_ Brett was frowning, already rising to turn off the camera on his side.

“No… No that’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” he sighed and rubbed his face, other hand tightening around his violin - as much as he wanted to rant, he knew talking to the man who loved him about his relationship problems would not be the best idea.

Toni had started doing that after their first few months of tension - whenever Brett called, she went on a walk. She wouldn’t make a comment but the silent accusation was still there, at least they didn’t fight anymore.

With all the stubbornness he was known for, Eddy had refused to give in that strange emotional blackmail - Brett was his friend; he cared for him and he loved their project, Toni had no reason to be jealous, no reason to be unhappy when he was there with her everyday and he wouldn’t cut down any more on the time he devoted to TwoSet.

“This isn’t about TwoSet,” she had said, “this is about him. He still loves you.”

He had had nothing to answer that.

*

Swear words filtering under his breath, he stumbled away from bed, blindly reaching for his phone while trying not to wake Toni up.

“What the fuck,” he muttered, the light of the screen burning his retina, deciphering Brett’s name even under the wild vibration.

4th of March, 6 a.m he registered the information, already so used to calculate the time difference that - _It’s still the third of March for him, just eight p.m._

“Happy birthday,” he rasped the second he accepted the call, dragging himself to the living room to let his girlfriend sleep. “You know, usually people don’t fish for happy birthday wishes by calling their close ones themselves.”

Burst of laughter, glasses clinking and loud music could be heard in the background, sharp contrast to the quiet night wrapping around Eddy’s tired mind.

_“Eeeeeddy! Just wanted to hear your voice b’fore the end’f my birthday...”_

“How are you already wasted?” he crashed on his couch with a chuckle, brain not fully plugged in yet.

_“We partied all day! Started drinking at- huh- noon- lunch. Yeah.”_

“Holy- really? Where are you? Are you home?” he frowned, suddenly too restless to stay seated, pacing from the living room to the kitchen, barely believing he was in this situation - what a terrible idea to be friends with a party boy.

_“Nah, I’m at a Phoe- Phib- a friend's, then we’re going clubbing!”_

“Is Ray around?”

_“Yeah, why?”_

“Can you give the phone to him?”

_“Nooo, I don’t want you to leave me on my birthday, please,”_ he whined, making Eddy roll his eyes - Brett was the worst with alcohol.

“I won’t, just give him the phone for a few seconds, I promise I won’t hang up, we can talk after, alright?”

_“Right…”_ noise climbed, laughter exploding louder, music overwhelming and Eddy’s head was already hurting - too much too early. _“Raaaaaay!!”_ another voice, shuffling, and Brett’s yelling coming more muffled. _“It’s Eddy. Wanna talk to you.”_

_“You moron, you fucking drunk called him, you can’t be left unspervised,”_ he heard Ray huff before his voice got clearer - he had taken the phone in hand, probably. _“Sorry about him Eddy, we had no idea where he was, why did you want to talk to me?”_

“You sound sober at least,” Eddy rubbed his eyes, already exhausted.

_“Yeah, I’m the driver.”_

“Perfect. Listen, huh… It’s a bit embarrassing, I know it’s not any of my business but… Brett sounds… Pretty wasted, and I’m kinda worried, could you- could you make sure he gets home safe and maybe doesn’t drink much more? Alcohol poisoning isn’t a joke.”

_“What? What’s he saying?”_ Brett’s slurred voice was faint but still close.

_“God, get away from my face, stop sticking your ear to the phone.”_

_“Give me Eddy baaaaack, I wanna hear his voice, it’s hot.”_

Eddy blushed to the tip of his ears.

_“You’re just embarrassing yourself,”_ from the glee of Ray’s voice, it was clear that he would never let Brett forget about tonight. 

“Just- just text me when you get him home safely alright? Otherwise I’ll think about it all day, and it’s like, six in the morning for me.”

_“Oh dude, I’m so sorry, we should have confiscated his phone when he started trying to get his shirt off and eat it. Don’t worry I’ll take care of him. You can go back to sleep”_

“Thanks, but-”

_“What’s he sayiiiing?”_

_“He’s babying you, Brett, that’s what you get for being the worst drunk.”_

_“At least he cares.”_

“Oh God,” the second hand embarrassment was so strong Eddy sat back on the couch, curling in on himself. “Thanks Ray, I trust you to give him water before putting him to bed, don’t hang up just yet though, I promised I would still talk to him after.”

_“Fuck dude, you’re such a mother hen, you two are sickening, old married couple vibe. Too much for me to handle. Alright, Brett, here, you can have your husband back, stop making the grabby hands, you look weird.”_

Some more babbling, incoherent noises and bursts of giggles later, Brett was out on the balcony, apparently someone had shoved a glass of water in his hands and their conversation started to gain more coherency.

“How are you?” he sighed, reclining on the couch, watching with growing despair as the day settled around him, knowing he would never go back to sleep.

_“I miss you,”_ Brett breathed, low under his breath and Eddy’s heart ricocheted before calming down in a low warmth.

“I miss you too.”

A pleased hum.

_“It’s almost been a year since I met you, huh,”_ he sounded less drunk already, speech still slurred though.

“It has.”

_“You’ve changed everything. You and TwoSet._ ”

For a few minutes, nothing was said, just their breath exchanged over the receiver, contemplation of how far they had come, in the short year they had known each other for.

“Happy birthday, Brett,” he whispered with a smile, overlooking the sun dipping in his living room, chasing the shades filling in the crease and corners.

_“You’ve said that already,”_ he heard a huff and a sip - Brett probably taking on some water _._

“You weren’t that drunk to begin with, were you?” Eddy chuckled, unable to be pissed at getting tricked.

“ _Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe..._ ”

“Dude,” Eddy snorted, threw back his head over the back of the couch, too fond. “You’re the worst.”

_“Thank you for answering your phone. I wasn’t sure you would.”_

“I had an alarm set to be able to call you before your midnight, you had no need to trick me.”

“ _Sorry.”_

He didn’t sound one bit sorry, smug and satisfied, and Eddy couldn’t bring himself to mind.

*

He shook his head when Toni raised a questioning eyebrow as his phone pinged with a message from Ray four hours later and a grin etched on his face

Brett was laid down in bed, mouth open, hair wild from partying, probably around a snore, a water bottle and aspirin visible at the corner of the frame.

> **Ray**
> 
> Baby safely delivered. You can rest easy.
> 
>   
>    
> 

His girlfriend stayed colder for the rest of the day, and Eddy wondered if, maybe, he had woken her up after all.

*

“I know this is going to sound weird, especially after all the jealousy and the crisis and just- just London in general, but I need my own space,” Toni awkwardly stood on his doorstep, not meeting his eyes.

“Are you… Are you breaking up with me?” 

It all felt like a dream, an out of body experience and this couldn't- this couldn’t happen. So many hurt feelings, so many resolutions- he had worked too hard for their relationship, dug the knife deeper and deeper in Brett’s chest- this couldn’t all be for nothing, this couldn't all be so that she would just break up with him at the first signs of winter and-

“No, no, Eddy that’s not it,” she finally stepped in the room, grabbed his hand - hers were clammy. Nervous, probably. “I love you, you know that, I would have left you to elope with Brett long ago if I didn’t,” she joked, but it fell flat.

“What _is_ it about then?”

Their- his bedroom felt too big, and his chest too small, ribcage tightening around his lungs.

“I don’t want to break up at all, believe me. I don’t. But- we aren’t, we aren’t going well, Eddy. Living together like this, this isn’t working, I’m- I’m losing myself, a bit. And you too-” he opened his mouth - _this isn’t true, I love you, I want you there -_ she didn’t let him, Toni never allowed him to run away. “No, don’t try to deny it. I know you roam in the apartment in the middle of the night, call Brett to do your TwoSet stuff so that I’m not on your back. I know you force yourself, push too much to be the boyfriend you think I need, but I’m not happy like that.”

For all that she was saying, it felt very much like a break-up speech - _Brett will have a hard time trying to contain his joy -_ a crazy part of his brain supplied him with.

“What do you… what do you suggest? What do you want to do?” his voice was so weak, hadn’t she been a few centimeters away from him, she wouldn't have heard it.

“I’m going back to Brisbane- but I’m not breaking up!” she added in a hurry when his face fell. “I just need space, and you do too. I’ll come to see you a lot and you will too, like we used to do before you left for London, then when we’re ready, maybe we can try this again - living together.”

When words failed him, mouth opening and closing uselessly - she was right, what was there to add? - he just brought her into a hug, unable to know whether it was strokes of sadness or relief that redecorated the insides of his chest.

The bright orange Naruto jumpsuit Brett had delivered to his place for his birthday was peeking from his closet, almost hurting his eyes - Why was everyone so much braver than him?

*

“Weren’t you supposed to come in September?”

The face on the camera offered a grimace, pushing back his hair from his forehead.

_“I know, I know I’m sorry, I’ve just been moved to first violins and-“_

“No, it’s okay, I get it, dude. You don’t have to justify yourself,” Eddy forced a smile, squashing the disappointment - a year since he hadn’t seen Brett.

But who was he to compete against a tour with the LSO.

“ _Keep sounding so disappointed and I’ll actually drop that tour to come and see you,”_ Brett teased, leaning his chin on the palm of his hand.

“You know you won’t,” with a snort, he glanced up to see the clock of his computer go from 3:59 to 4:00 - another sleepless night profiling itself, good thing he didn’t have morning rehearsal.

“ _True_ ,” his friend chuckled. “ _Zimmerman won’t forgive me if I skip, I would still have rather spent that time with you, like we were supposed to. But maybe, maybe if you insist just a bit I’ll drop it all and come back to Australia...”_

“Then I certainly won’t, I refuse to be responsible for the failure of your career with the fucking London Symphony Orchestra.”

The expression settling on Brett’s feature wasn’t the one he had expected to answer his joking tone, he seemed to turn words over in his brain, eyebrows creasing in reflexion.

_“If I do- if I drop everything for you, one day, I trust you to know- to be clear that it was my choice, that I did it while being aware of the consequences...”_

“If you ever drop the damn LSO for me, I’ll make sure you regret that decision every single day of your life.”

“ _My choice, Eddy,_ ” the smirk that climbed in his face was both insufferable and endearing.

“It’s also my choice to knock you out and bring you back to London myself.”

With a burst of laughter, all traces of seriousness vanished from Brett’s face, crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

_“Alright, alright, I got the message. I don’t actually want to piss you off, but don’t blame me if I drunk call you again because I miss you.”_

“I can’t believe the shame of that time on your birthday didn’t stick for longer, Ray almost wrote a transcript of the discussion. I’m not sure _I_ am even over the secondhand embarrassment, and it’s been six months.”

_“I embrace my wildness.”_

Brett’s hair was sticking in all directions from running his fingers through it, London’s summer lights making his skin glow - brimming with warmth and positivity even through the screen, and Eddy had to bite his lip at the sudden rush of fondness.

_Maybe- maybe it’s good we are not in the same place,_ he realized, _I’m still too attached_ , _if I see him now-_

He let the thought fill the silence between them, expand unsaid - _if I see him now..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No time to write a long paragraph, but definitely check out [Hold Me Tight (Please)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808764) by [ShrewburyBeezlebub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrewburyBeezlebub/pseuds/ShrewburyBeezlebub)! It's a hilarious and well written short once shot with Brett and Eddy as neighbors :D I have a huge smile on my face throughout the whole thing!


	13. Chapter 12: Slipping away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this fic with five buffer chapter, I am now only at two xD at least I'm nearing the end, so I think I've calculated well the necessary advance. I might skip the Wednesday update because I need to get my computer fixed though, so I'll probably see you next week :) 
> 
> I also realized while making the illustration for this chapter that it was once again in a dark setting, and almost all of my scenes are happening at night or in dark rooms xD what is it with me, do I unknowingly hate bright and sunny spaces?
> 
> Thank you for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks :D every one of them makes me giddy!
> 
> And thank you Ria for the fantastic beta reading despite not having a lot of time, I really appreciate it!

#  Chapter 12: Slipping away

The tune of the call waiting to be picked up was starting to drive him crazy - the constant G harassing the back of his mind. 

Eddy had been sitting in front of his computer for about half an hour now, and Brett still wasn’t picking up Facetime, wasn’t answering his text, and they were supposed to film. 

The late one was usually Eddy, this was strange. 

_ He must have his reasons _ , he shrugged and grabbed his violin,  _ might as well practice while waiting.  _

It didn’t stop uneasiness from crawling up his throat, safely logging itself there with all his other worries. 

  
  
  


The room was dark when his phone rang, shaking him out of the doze he had fallen into with a startle, both relief and irritation exploded low in his stomach when he saw the name displayed.

“Bro!” he frowned as soon as the screen was pressed against his ear. “What the fuck? I’ve been waiting for…” a glance at his clock. “Fucking four hours!”

_ “Yeah, sorry, I’m so sorry mate, ER took forever, there were so many people and- _ ”

His blood froze, a stone falling at the pit of his stomach, the uneasiness that was in his throat growing and growing and clogging everything.

“ER?” he heard himself say from outside of his body - voice remote and weak.

_ “Don’t worry! I’m fine. I’m completely okay.” _

“Why were you in the ER then? People don’t go to the hospital because they’re fine, Brett.”

An amused huff answered him, and the panicked lessened. 

_ “Stop worrying, dude. It’s nothing, I just felt a bit faint and I thought I should get it checked out just in case, cause I knew you would be on my ass otherwise-” _

“Good thinking. A rare but wise decision from Brett Yang,” he managed to insert tease back into his voice, Brett’s easy tone settling him somewhat.

_ “Fuck off _ ,” he barked a laugh. “ _ I’m fine, the doctor found nothing wrong with me and I feel completely okay now, so I’m all good. I’m so sorry for being so fucking late though, I wanted to warn you but my phone ran out of battery. Thankfully I was with a friend, but I couldn’t remember your number or anything so I had to wait to be back home. Do you still want to film?” _

Before he realized it, his head was shaking, a small smile fighting its way on his lips - typical Brett.

“No, dude. You literally just got out of the hospital. Go rest.”

_ “I told you I felt fine-” _

“Brett.”

_ “You’re no fun.” _

“Yeah, sorry to be that boring friend who cares about your health.”

_ “I’m kidding, dude,”  _ his voice went soft,  _ “I know you do.”  _ As a smile curled his lips, a tug at his heart and from the silence on the other side of the line, he knew Brett’s face must be warmed by the same expression before he cleared his throat.  _ “So, since I’m not allowed to film, do you wanna do anything?” _

They argued for so long about what might or might not be too exerting that when Eddy fell asleep, phone on speaker on the cushion beside him, they hadn’t done anything but talk - still, he was smiling.

*

His place felt bigger, thoughts allowed to rebound against the walls of the apartment, more settled in his relationship, happier every time he saw her now - since Toni had moved back to Brisbane with the colder winds of July.

And this new thing they had, freer, more independent, felt like a lock of iron had been removed from his lungs, like his relationship was moving in the right direction again - finally. Maybe in a few months, a few years, they would try again, both older and more mature, more settled in who they wanted to be, and it would work this time.

_ I want to spend the rest of my life with you -  _ he had told in a desperate attempt to calm her when he was in London. Who was he kidding? He was the master of overthinkers, swearing his whole life to someone was too much, too irresponsible. But he hadn’t been brave enough to face his own thoughts, and Toni had had to take the decision for him, for the both of them.

Brett hadn’t asked why his girlfriend wasn’t around anymore, but the calls lasted longer and longer.

*

This project they had, this idea that slowly took off, the views and comments that came from new fans, from people that weren’t friends they had forced to watch their videos, it carried them through everything, a year and a half, each at their end of the world, through video calls and hours of chatting, so that Brett’s voice had become the background track of Eddy’s life, always there, somewhere - he heard it in the night, waking up and falling asleep, in between orchestral breaks, editing videos in a rush before a concert, in his earphones as he took a run, as he practiced and let the call going on.

Bit by bit, view by view, skit by violin charade by video review, in one year and a half they had built something that felt like a beginning, like tickles in Eddy’s chest - like wings of music as he watched the number grow - like a gate number 40 and a plane flying by the window of an airport.

“ _ Dude! This YouTube thing is making money! _ ” Brett sounded awed on the other side of the phone.

“Does that mean I have to call you my business partner now?” Eddy teased, on a high from all the positivity thrown their way -  _ you made me pick up the violin again,  _ said one,  _ I love feeling like being a music nerd is cool,  _ another one wrote, feeling like grabbing Brett in a hug because  _ they were doing it.  _

“ _ You can call me your partner in any way you want.” _

“The flirting is getting worse and worse.”

“ _ I’m out of practice. I haven’t seen you in too long. _ ”

“You just have to come, then,” it tumbled from his mouth, words in a rush to escape, before his brain could catch up with him and make him take them back, and anticipation was expanding in his chest, leaving no place for oxygen.

_ “I just might,”  _ Brett’s voice was low against his ear, a bit breathy, maybe.  _ “I just might…” _

“When?” he had to make him say it, then he would do it - because that was who Brett Yang was, someone who did it. “Give me a date.”

“ _ New Year‘s. I’ll be there for New Year’s. _ ”

A month. It had been a year and three months since he had left London, and in a month, he would see him again.

*

He had known it would happen - he was just Eddy Chen after all.

Brett had already gone past all his expectations, kept TwoSet going, made it all happen with sheer will and hard work while maintaining his position at first violin in the London Symphony Orchestra.

If Eddy were to be completely honest, he would admit to be, maybe, a little bit charmed, flattered by this undying interest. 

For more than a year he had tirelessly loved Eddy, without getting anything in return, and it has been more than he could have asked - Brett Yang was something else, something Eddy never met in his life, a force of nature that could cross ocean, that can quit and start everything, that went two hundred percent into anything he decided, devoted all his energy into what he was passionate about. Someone that got what he wanted. 

_ And he wants you,  _ a voice had whispered at the back of his mind for the past year, driving him to do better, to fight exhaustion, to be the best version of himself to deserve Brett’s love - even if he wasn’t allowed to give it back in the same way.

It left him reeling, dizzy.

He should have known it wouldn’t have lasted forever - he still wasn’t ready when reality caught up with him.

“Isn’t that your bedroom?” 

The words spilled from his mouth as a half-naked Asian man with round glasses stepped from said bedroom, rubbing at his eyes - the man hadn’t seen Brett was on video call apparently, strolling to the kitchen. And he understood, the man was attractive, really. 

_ “Yes it is, you’ve been in there before _ ,” Brett smirked, looking back at the man that seemed perfectly at ease in Brett’s living space, a purple mark or two adorning his neck.

“Dude! That sounds so wrong,” he laughed, swallowing down everything that wanted escape, forcing spikes of disappointments down, down, down… 

He was happy, he was happy for Brett. He was. He had wanted him to move on - and he finally did and it was good. It really was. Good. 

_ “Sounds pretty right to me. Hey, Hyung, come and say hi.” _

“ _ Let me grab a shirt before you introducing me _ ,” he stepped back inside Brett’s bedroom before coming back near the screen, more dressed.

_ “That’s Hyung,”  _ Brett beamed, throwing a thumb in his direction.  _ “Oh, wait, I've said that already. Whatever, Hyung’s from the LSO too, he was the friend I told you came with me at the hospital last month and more importantly, a super good cellist. Oh! Hyung, don't you wanna be in one of our videos? You could like, try to teach me cello or something.” _

_ “Maybe,”  _ the look he gave Brett spoke of many things that messed with Eddy’s stomach.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” he waved at the camera before raising an eyebrow when his friend stayed silent. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me?” 

If this guy was Brett’s new boyfriend, would be in videos too, might as well get along with him.

“ _ No need, you’re Eddy right? Everybody who spent more than five minutes with Brett would know who you are.”  _

Hyung’s smile was tight but not unfriendly as Brett’s eyes avoided the camera with an awkward chuckle and - Eddy got it, he really did, how weird it must be for Hyung to be faced with the previous love interest of his at least hook-up, if not boyfriend.

He swallowed thickly and some part of him really was happy, relieved Brett had moved on - the other part, he stomped on until it stopped making noise, that would be for a sleepless night spent turning and tossing to dissect.

*

_ Brett is still flirting with you _ , something at the edge of his heart whispered.

_ Brett flirts with everyone, _ his mind answered.

_ It doesn’t matter,  _ his arms tightened around his pillow, burying his face in the cold sheets. _ It's good, it’s what I wanted for him. _

_ Still,  _ something wrapped around his lungs,  _ you weren’t enough to keep him in love. _

And the force that had carried him for more than a year now, the elation behind his steps faded away.

_ You’re fucking ridiculous, stop moping you greedy, selfish idiot, Brett deserves to be happy.  _

*

Since she learned about Hyung’s existence, Toni had started to stay around when Brett called, exchanging jest with him and not even minding that he would stay in Eddy’s apartment during the week off he had taken around New Year. 

Eddy had to hand it to him, Brett had barely flinched the first time she had talked to him, confusion appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye as he laughed at whatever she had been saying from where she was standing beside Eddy, an arm around his shoulder to lean closer to the camera. Even through a computer, his charm was seeping, all crinkles, nice smile and compliments that even Toni wasn’t immune to. 

He had almost forgotten, had known him for long enough that Brett had been nothing but himself around him, hadn’t bothered to up the charm to the maximum anymore - confident enough that Eddy  _ cared _ to allow himself to be natural.

_ This is good. Brett moving on is good. _

*

“I heard Brett had a boyfriend, cute cello guy,” Jordon sipped his bubble tea, failing at looking inconspicuous.

“Yeah. Good for him.”

“Mmh, good for him…”

*

By the time Brett’s plane landed in Sydney, Eddy had made peace with it - mostly - had worked around his feelings to mostly dig in the well of happiness that came with the thought of Brett; his friend, business and duet partner, his drive and the voice in the sleepless nights. 

And, none of that mattered, none of the relationships and questions and jealousy and- just his fingers itching, music swirling inside his chest as Brett dragged his suitcase through the airport, violin case on his back, looking tired and pale but  _ there. _

“Hey, welcome back to Australia.”

Brett looked up, almost startled, before his eyes latched onto Eddy.

“What the- you came?”

“You did drive me to the airport when I left London,” he stepped forward, feeling all kinds of flustered, arms moving without purpose, the fucking pull was back and - how was it stronger than before, leaving his chest trembling and his hands twisting against each other.

“Dude,” Brett shook his head, the smile stretching his lips growing and growing until there was no other place for any expression. “You have no idea- you didn’t have to- oh fuck, can I hug you?”

“Yeah, yeah sure,” he stumbled over himself, probably tripping a bit, limbs thrown all around Brett, finding a new anchor in the weight against him, in the smell of his hair and the way his laugh sounded so much better than through a microphone.

“I’m so tired,” Brett mumbled against his chest, fingers loosely gripping the back of his shirt. “I’m so fucking glad to see you. I can’t wait to play…” 

His words dissolved in the air, exhaustion clearly pulling at him, sagged against Eddy like he had not a single drop of energy left.

“Should I carry you back to the car?”

A chuckle escaped the man still leaning on him as he looked up.

“If you can, but you’ll also have to take my violin, my suitcase, and the gifts I brought back for my parents.” 

He felt strange in Eddy’s arms, different - like he would be crushed if Eddy put too much pressure on his ribcage.

“Did you get thinner?” he frowned, hands flattening against Brett’s side.

“I think it’s you,” Brett smirked up at him, giving an appraising look at his forearms. “You got bigger. You were super scrawny, back in London.”

“Oh. Yeah, I started working out after.”

“It shows,” there was breathlessness to his voice as he stepped back, racking a hand through his hair and something low in Eddy’s stomach tickled. 

“Yeah?”

Elation spread, chest fuzzy under the compliment, grin too big and he felt like maybe jumping around a bit, craving praise - more praise and he would draw them out of Brett and-

“Should we- should we go?”

“Are you sure I can stay at your place? I told you already, but I can just go back to my parent’s place in Brisbane you know, I don’t want to intrude between you and Toni.”

“Oh, it’s okay we don’t- we don’t live together anymore…” he trailed off, and the spark in Brett’s eyes told him he had already figured that out by himself - just wanted to draw it out of Eddy’s mouth.

“Okay,” he breathed out, “lead the way.”

_ I want to play - I want to play with him. Now. _

_ * _

It was no surprise that as soon as they passed Eddy’s door, Brett moaning about the heat, their violins were in their hands, laughter bubbling, exhilarating as they played again - together and Eddy remembered all over again why he admired Brett so much.

_ Stay,  _ he wanted to say,  _ stay in here so we can play like this every day of the year _ .

But he didn’t, because he had a girlfriend, Brett had Hyung, Brett played with the LSO, and he would stop his selfishness there.

*

It should have been strange, having Brett in his space like this after a year and a half, but he had gotten so used to have his voice everywhere, at any time, that he slipped naturally in the rhythm of Eddy’s life for the short week he stayed - the only difference the way his presence attracted Eddy’s eyes at all times, impossible to escape, cataloging all the little changes, the different hair cut, the way he seemed softer, calmer, a bit more settled.

And tired - so tired.

He had chalked it up to jet lag at first, the ten hours difference between London and Sydney, but something else gnawed at his guts when Brett woke up late, when he went to bed early, when he stumbled after a long filming session, when he shook off Eddy’s concern with a wave of the hand -  _ I’m fine, still a bit under the weather from the travel that’s all, let’s film together while we can. _

*

He had never been around so many people for a New Year’s party, Brett somehow still having so many friends in Australia despite being gone for years that added to Toni and himself’s own group of friends, their band of loud musicians didn’t fail to attract a lot of attention - Brisbane’s bars and clubs and the dark night, Brett was back in his black dress shirt, Toni’s dress flowed around her beautifully and he felt so stupidly inadequate between the two of them until he felt Brett’s eyes rack his form, the smirk on his lips saying just enough for a shiver to go down Eddy’s body - he must look okay, good enough.

As people yelled the countdown, in the living room of someone from their group he didn’t really know, he had tried to look around for Toni, give her a kiss and seal the New Year, but she was nowhere to be found and it didn’t really matter because then he heard Brett’s laugh from the other side of the living room, pushing his hair back, his usual flirty smile on his lips before he caught Eddy’s eyes and everything about him soften so much Eddy had to bite his tongue.

“Zero!” the crowd bellowed, glasses clinking and music coming again and couples hugging and kissing. 

Crossing the room, the cheers and yells, under the moving lights, Brett made his way to him.

“Happy new year, Eddy,” his face was still soft, and Eddy was smiling so much, explosions in his chest distracting him so much it took him a few seconds to realize the fingers fluttering against his own, the callus dragging against his skin.

“Happy new year…” he fought against the shortness of his breath. 

“Another one to TwoSet, hey, business partner.”

“To TwoSet,” he smiled, and, ever so slowly, let his own fingers wrap around Brett’s hand, pulse ricocheting against his neck, drowning all sound and he swallowed, squeezed the hand in his once and stepped back before- before anything.

_ He moved on, don’t make it harder _

Harder for who was left unanswered.

And after a drink, and another, then some more alcohol going around, reality unsticking from his world, dreamy haze surrounding everything, his throat was dry and Brett was everywhere in his vision - it felt like that night out, the one in the club with Brett’s hips under his fingers and sweat and too much noise.

“You’re not drinking?” he felt his tongue was not answering properly as Brett shook his head, and maybe it was time to think about going home, to find Toni and walk back to his family house where he would spend the night. “Do you have to drive back to your parent’s place?”

“Nah, my brother’s gonna come and pick me up.”

“Why then? You call- you drunk call me every- all the time in London,” he blinked around the way his brain tried to wrap around Brett- around Brett’s motivation.

He could be so hard to read sometimes, despite his brutal honesty, so many things under that smile, and Eddy wanted to rip apart his front, to snuggle deep behind Brett’s defense and witness everything that was vulnerable again, like he had been able to, in short glimpses back in London.

“One of us needs to stay sober,” the look he gave him made Eddy swallow again, “It’s not the same- when I know- when there’s so much distance. There’s no distance now.”

He was barely making sense, yet his words resonated inside Eddy - there was no distance. He was almost pressed up against him, drinking in everything that made Brett, and control was a slippery thing. 

“Go back to your girlfriend,” Brett whispered, a hand coming up to press against Eddy’s chest.

“I don’t know where she is.”

The hand was tightening around the tissue of his shirt, fingers so white and elegant, and started to become unsure whether he was trying to push Eddy back or drag him closer.

“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow,” Brett just said, and Eddy’s stomach tightened.

_ But maybe, maybe if you insist just a bit I’ll drop it all and come back to Australia… -  _ Brett had said, and the weight behind his words, the way he gazed up a Eddy felt like a request, as if he was begging Eddy to ask him to stay.

And Eddy- wanted him to stay here so much, selfishness and greediness wrapped around him - having Brett all back to himself, get his love back and drown in his presence. 

He wasn’t drunk enough to be that much of an idiot.

“D’you want to play?” he settled for the next best thing.

“You wanna ditch the New Year party to play violin?” Brett started giggling incredulously.

He would have felt a bit ridiculous, a bit ashamed maybe, at how eager he was to play - violin nerd - but he was a bit drunk and Brett was right there, would leave soon and the thing he liked most in the whole world was to make music together.

The tension crackled between them, unsaids dancing between the words as Brett shook his head.

“Tomorrow, I’ll come and we’ll play together. Go back home with your girlfriend tonight Eddy.”

It ached, this almost rejection - Brett had almost never said no to him, and he thought he definitely deserved it. 

“Sorry,” he shuffled his feet on the floor, unsettled, outside of his body, feeling like grabbing Brett and never letting go of him, or burying himself in the ground in shame. 

“No, that’s okay. I wanna play with you too - just, now… ” Brett’s eyes were dark under the low lights, their bodies were close - too close, not close enough. “Now is… Not a good idea,” he licked his lips, and Eddy understood. Stepped back.

When Toni refused to come back with him, he felt the end at the tip of his tongue, something shifting without hope of getting back into the status quo. 

*

“He still loves you,” Toni wasn’t meeting his gaze. “He still loves you and you... You can’t see the way you look at him.” 

She didn’t sound angry, didn’t even sound bitter, just tired, bone-deep exhaustion that had nothing to do with a late-night partying, rubbing her eyes - she hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup.

“He doesn’t-”

She cut him before he went any further in his defense. 

“As long as it was just phone calls, or FaceTime, when I learned he had someone else too, I thought it was okay, but this? This thing between you two? I can almost touch it with how thick it is, the way you- I can’t- your eyes are stuck to him, and when they aren’t then he’s the one looking and New Year’s was... ” she shook her head and grabbed her keys. “I need some time.”

He stayed standing there, in his mother’s living room, like an idiot.

When he came with Brett to the airport, the Yang family was there too, so all he allowed himself to do was a quick hug under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Yang, feeling like everything important was slipping away from him.

*

“ _ Dude, are you having bubble tea? _ ”

“Huh, yeah,” he swallowed guiltily around a tapioca pearl.

_ “I want one too!” _ Brett whined, leaning back in his chair, pouting like a five years old, drowning in his oversized hoodie; Eddy hadn’t seen Toni in weeks, his friend just looked way too hugable and he had to grab at his own hands.

“You look tired, maybe we should take a break, enough for you to get a bubble tea,” Eddy shook the cup in front of the screen, slurping loudly to make him whine a bit more.

_ “Nah, I’m fine. We can’t stop our momentum now, TwoSet’s becoming like, really popular.” _

He wasn’t lying, views and subscribers had exploded after New Year - something about their synergy when they were together, the videos they had filmed in the same room supplanting every other, and the comments…

_ I’m so jealous, I want a friendship like theirs! _

_ Oooh, they’re so cute together!! You should film like this all the time. _

_ The energy was just different in this one… _

So, instead of stopping, they started to launch a clothing line for merch.

The circles under Brett’s eyes got darker every video.

*

“ _ Dude, I love you but you wake me up once more at three in the morning and I strangle you with an E string, _ ” Brett’s raspy and annoyed voice answered the phone.

“You went to the hospital again?” he was so frazzled, nerves alight with worry that he barely registered the way his heart spiked at how casually the  _ I love you  _ was thrown his way.

_ “How do you-” _

“Hyung warned me, cause apparently, you would have never told me otherwise.”

_ “Fucking Hyung,”  _ Brett mumbled, rustling of sheets from the other side of the line, and Eddy didn’t even feel guilty at waking him up.

“What’s happening with you? Please you have to tell me, I swear if you pull a  _ Your Lie in April _ on me I’ll never forgive you.”

_ “Eddy, don’t worry-” _

“Don’t tell me not to fucking worry!” he snapped and immediately regretted when the line went silent, Brett’s slow breath in his ear and he was pacing down the floor of his apartment with growing uneasiness.

He had seen Brett was tired, had tried to take most of the workload on his back but he was just so insistent, working behind his back, lying and glossing over his condition, and Eddy was so far away, couldn’t do anything from Sydney. 

“Please, be honest with me, please,” Eddy’s hands gripped his own hair - it was shaking. 

_ “It’s nice to hear you beg-” _

“Stop that. The misdirection. Just tell me.”

He heard a thump - a head falling back on a pillow - and a sigh so deep it resonated in Eddy’s chest.

_ “I don’t know,”  _ Brett finally whispered, sounding so- weak. Defeated.  _ “I don’t know, and the doctors don’t either. It’s just- I’m really, really, really tired, all the time. It’s bad, I think, but not life threatening.” _

“And when did you think would be a good time to tell me?”

_ “Don’t be angry,”  _ Brett murmured.

“I’m not- well, I’m a bit angry, but I’m mostly worried.”

_ “Of course you are… And then you wonder why I didn’t tell you, you anxious mess.” _

“We have to stop TwoSet.”

_ “No-” _

“Bro, you have to listen to me. Please.”

Brett said okay, agreed to everything Eddy said, but as he hung up to let him rest, it still festered ugly in his chest, the worry spreading and eating him alive. He knew Brett - he would never listen to him.

*

He had no idea how to break it to her, fumbling, hands wrung together and words awkward, but there was no way around it now - everything else was ready. 

“Brett is sick,” the words closed around his throat bringing back the familiar wave of worry that had plagued him for the past week. “Like, really, really sick, hospital sick.”

There was a smile on Toni’s lips, a strange one, one that seemed both settled and fragile.

“I’m leaving for Japan.”

Nothing could have prepared him for that.

“You- what? What- how?”

“I have… A really good opportunity there, but I have to live there for a year and I- I was unsure but-” she sighed and looked up. “I think I need it, and, us,” she gestured at the way they stood awkwardly a few meters away from each other. “This isn’t working, hasn’t really for a while, so…”

It was strange, the way he had been shaking with fear every time before, when he thought she had been on the verge of breaking up, and now, there was only a carpet of sadness wrapped around him - a sadness threaded with acceptance. He had been getting ready to part ways, but she had just beaten him to it - he thought it was fair, in the end, that she was the one to break up, chasing her dreams in Japan.

“I’ll miss you,” he said, took a few steps forward, breaking the visible screen between them. “I’m… Really, really gonna miss you.” 

And he took her in a hug, it felt like that one - the one in front of the gate number forty, when he was ready to leave her behind for six months.

“I know,” her body was tense against his, before unwinding, bringing her own arms around him and squeezing. “Thank you for being my boyfriend for two years and a half… It really wasn’t all bad.”

“And then you say you don’t count.”

“I know you like being the one to remind me of anniversaries, so I let you.”

When he released her, the top of her hair was wet - salty too, probably.

He wiped his cheeks, Toni’s eyes were still dry - she had always been stronger than him.

“Thank you, you’re the best.”

“You can go, now.”

“Huh?”

“I know… I know you’re leaving too.”

“How-”

“Emma told me you had asked for a leave at the SSO, she wondered if I knew why. I know now. You’re going there, to London.”

He thought back to the plane ticket on his phone, the suitcase already packed in his apartment and Brett’s weak voice on the phone.

“I am.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's fic is the very cute drable [when i'm with you, i'm at home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28975875) by [aly_raena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aly_raena/pseuds/aly_raena).
> 
> Their works are always very short, but in just a few lines, they instantly set the atmosphere, they also leave to the reader to make up the context sometimes, just giving a few clews here and there, their mind looks like a very interesting place :D
> 
> This work is pure fluff - about the stupid pillow Eddy gifted Brett at Christmas - absolutely adorable, I was smiling for a while after reading that. Do check out their other works, they all ring a bit differently every time!
> 
> (My best friend once again highjacked my document for this chapter:
> 
> "It was dark and gloomy, no sun rays of any kind! What would they be doing to solve that problem … nothing. Netflix was on! They would kiss (in all friendship of course), and snuggle (likewise), and do babies (despite the fact that they are from the same gender because fuck off the patriarchal view of society!"
> 
> She also suggested that the title should have been: There she went. 
> 
> I refused - it would have given away too much)


End file.
